Harry Potter and the Acceptance of Fate
by Arya1
Summary: Post-OotP-Ch57: Harry is calculating and exerts self-restraint, Moody visits, Harry gets some history on Voldemort's timing, Neville cheers up Harry just a bit, another sabbat is upon us and Snape pokes Harry, Harry gets a wild idea.
1. Chapters 1 to 4: Return to Privet Drive

Disclaimer:  I do not own Harry, oh how I wish I did and I could have my way with him and so many other ickle characters.  Alas, I am poor and pathetically obsessed with the world of Harry Potter so I only can write about him.  

Summary:  Harry comes to terms with the death from OotP and has to learn to accept his fate before him. Harry being allowed to join the Order causes tension. Friendships change--some for the better, some for the worst.  The Wizarding world becomes the stage for war and Dumbledore maneuvers his chess pieces into position.  Harry finds out there's a lot more live for a and a lot more to lose when his heart starts to feel something for someone who's been just a friend for years.  It'll be H/Hr.   I guarantee Ron won't be pleased about this.  In fact, as the year goes on, he just can't figure out why everyone seems to act like the world revolves around Harry.  This is my guess to how many of things to come in the 6th and 7th books may play out but I plan to give Harry some more, er…*adult* situations than JKR could allow him to enjoy.  

This is my first fic but I won't ask for mercy-- correct me if I am wrong and flame me if I suck.

Summary Updated 1-28-04: You may also find chapters posted on my Yahoo Group along with some discussions and other reviews.  The website is linked on my bio page.  The Yahoo Group name is: HP_AoF.  On that site, some of these initial, shorter chapters will be merged into one file for ease of downloading or printing.  If you want to know what to expect from me as an author, read my bio page--I make some promises there and even now, six months later, I'm sticking to them.  

Chapter 1. Return to Silence

The ride from Kings Cross to Little Whinging was remarkable only in the fact that for the first time it was completely uneventful.  Uncle Vernon made no disparaging comments about other motorists, pedestrians, the weather, nor, most notably, Harry.  In fact, Uncle Vernon made not a peep of noise despite maintaining the coloring of a Purple Puking Pastille.  Aunt Petunia was silent as well and her lips had all but disappeared into her horse-like face as she had them pursed in such a thin line.  Dudley, in a most un-Dudley-like display, sat looking out the window looking as if he were actually deep in thought.  All the while, the last passenger in the car sat marveling at the fact that he had not yet been made to listen to a litany of horrors he would be subjected to if he were to step out of line during the summer.  

Harry had yet to hear a word spoken from any one of his relatives by the time they had arrived back at Number Four Privet Drive.  Harry had lugged his trunk and Hedwig up to the smallest bedroom in silence.  As he flopped facedown upon his bed, he was only brought back to reality by a low hoot from Hedwig.  

"I suppose you want out," he said as he opened the cage and window beside his desk. He watched longingly as Hedwig hopped over to the window, ready to roam for the night.  "I don't blame you," he thought as he watched his only friendly companion for the summer fly off for the night.

The atmosphere at Number Four could only be described as tense.  It seemed as if Uncle Vernon had had his mouth glued shut and the only noises he could muster were some indistinct grunts and something sounding like, "Flapplegrundymum."  Dudley was barely ever home, running with his friends and beating up on ten-year olds, no doubt.  And Aunt Petunia only spoke to fuss over her Duddydums and to when announce meals were ready.  Meals were silent except for the sound of Vernon's newspaper shuffling and the clink of silverware on dishes.  Harry occasionally found Dudley staring at him in a peculiar way.  Harry thought he may have been thinking again but really could not believe Dudley would do such a thing.  Aunt Petunia, though, seemed determined not to acknowledge the tension in anyway and could be found busying herself doing all manner of odd chores, even those previously relegated to Harry.  

Harry was indeterminably grateful for being ignored and for being given the freedom to do nothing but stare at the ceiling in his bedroom.  After three days of being home, the only thing he had managed to feel obligated to do was send off a letter his first morning back to Lupin assuring him that Harry had indeed made it home and was not locked away in a cupboard, yet.   

Harry was startled back from his thoughts as an unfamiliar owl flew in and landed on his chest.  He untied the letter and the owl flew over to Hedwig's cage and after her seeming appraisal, was granted her permission to have a drink.  The owl then settled upon the top of her cage, clearly saying it would be waiting for a reply.   Harry tore open the letter and read:

_Harry, _

_Thank you for sending a note so promptly.  How are you doing?  Arabella says she has not seen you in the neighborhood at all.  Let's meet at her house for tea on Thursday.  I would really like to see you again and see for myself that you are okay.  Let me know if you need anything.  _

_Remus_

Harry bristled at the idea that he needed to be checked up upon and that this invitation to tea was not really a request but an expectation.  "Yet another expectation," he grumbled to himself. "They expect me to be okay, expect me to not blame myself, expect me to live with people who would rather eat worms than speak to me, expect me to clear my mind when the only thought that I can't help but think is that I am, without choice, destined to be murdered or a murderer.  Oh and when you have done that; please vanquish the Dark Lord, too.  Great Bloody Expectations.  My life puts Charles Dickens to shame."  Hedwig clicked her beak in indignant agreement.

The next day before having to leave for Mrs. Figg's, Harry took the time to shower for the first time since he had been back at Number Four; he thought they would probably appreciate him not arriving with his own special stench.  As Harry attempted to comb his ever-untidy hair, he found himself staring into the mirror.  The mirror reminded him of the mirror Sirius had given him.  The mirror that did not show Sirius's face since Sirius was now trapped in some veil.  The mirror that _could_ have been used to know that Sirius was never actually in danger until Harry allowed himself to be manipulated and tricked to go the Ministry.  The mirror that reflected a face nearly identical to the only actual image Harry had ever seen of his father.  As Harry thought of his father he began to attack his hair with more vigor, determined to not be the mirror image of his father.  At this thought, he felt his eyes prickle and chest burn.  _He couldn't have been always awful_, he thought.  _Damn Snape!  Here I am stuck with this…this…feeling and image of my father and Sirius isn't even here to tell me what my father was other than cruel or arrogant!  Snape is probably toasting his pickled frogs in his dungeon, drinking to the fact that his school day tormentors were now both dead.  Bloody bastard_.

His hair at least looked somewhat neater for the moment and Harry gave in.  Now all he had to decide was whether to wear the bluish t-shirt that was too long and too wide with his jeans that were too short and had rips in each pocket or the grayish t-shirt that was only too wide with his jeans that were too short and had a hole in the knee.    He tugged on the latter combination, tucked his wand in his belt loop and vacantly recalled as he pulled the shirt over his head that the t-shirt had, at one time been white-ish.  _Just like Snape's underpants_.   Harry shuddered with the memory and vigorously shook his head to chase away the image.  He noticed his hair was now as untidy as ever as he passed the mirror on his way out the door.  

Chapter 2. Tea Talk and Expectations

            "Harry, come in, come in."  Mrs. Figg ushered Harry in off her porch and Harry was amazed at the rush of emotions upon seeing Remus Lupin sitting on one of Mrs. Figg's doily-covered settees.  He felt relief at a familiar face and being reconnected to the wizarding world, grief for the last time he had seen Lupin was when he had just witnessed Sirius fall through that damn veil and shame because he, Harry, was the reason that Lupin and Sirius had gone to the Ministry that night in the first place.  His face must have shown his flood of emotions for Lupin got up, and watching Harry's face intently, placed a concerned hand on Harry's shoulder asking, "Are you alright?  Let's sit down."  

            Harry found he could not meet Lupin's eyes and stared at the smoky grey cat sitting in the chair near the empty fire grate licking its paw intently while vaguely hearing Mrs. Figg say tea would ready in a few minutes and that she would be in the kitchen.  "Harry?"  Lupin was still watching Harry's face and he found it very disconcerting to be scrutinized so intently.  Lupin seemed just as uncomfortable with an unresponsive Harry and asked, "Are your relatives behaving like muggles or did Mad-Eye scare them enough?"  

            "They're fine.  Completely ignore me. As good as it gets, really." 

            "No threats of stuffing you in a cupboard then?"  Lupin asked with a hint of dry amusement.

            "Not a word."

            "Do you have much to occupy your time?" After a brief silence Lupin continued, "I know this summer before you get your O.W.L. results and can sign up for your N.E.W.T. courses you won't have any homework to do.  How did your OWLs go?"

            "No.  Fine.  Not really."  Harry shook his head.  "I mean, no, I haven't done much of anything.  Just thinking.  OWLs were lousy," Harry finished as he continued to stare at his shoe, watching his sock poke though the hole in the toe.  

            "Well, they couldn't have been that bad, you are quite bright.  I'm sure you aced Defense?  Rumor has it you were teaching it this past year, after all?  

            "Um, yeah, that went well."  Harry smiled slightly and snuck a look at Lupin as he added, "The examiner added an extra credit point for my ability to produce a Patronus."  He looked back down as he said, "Thanks for that.  I taught it to several others last year.  Not a real pressure situation, just, learning the charm."  He took a deep breath and looked directly at Lupin as he continued, "I reckon it is something everyone should be practicing since the Dementors are out."  Lupin sighed as Mrs. Figg brought in and set down a tray with tea, sandwiches and biscuits.  

"I've got to run to the market and another errand or two. You two will be fine?  I will be back in about six."  Lupin nodded, "Thank you Arabella."  

            "The Ministry has been sending out pamphlets on home security and basic defense to everyone since they have been forced to acknowledge Voldemort's return.  They just sent out one this week on the Patronus Charm as the only defense against a dementor."  

            "They expect people to defend themselves?  Against Dementors?  When they have never practiced much less practice against a real dementor?  Where are the Aurors?"  Harry was appalled that the ministry would not understand the time, effort and training involved in becoming capable to fight off a dementor.  "What about students?  I've helped a few become familiar with the spell, but…I mean, I got dragged in front of the entire Wizengamot last summer because I decided to defend myself and not get my soul sucked out!  How… I mean, really, what---"

            "Dumbledore is working to convince the Confederation to sponsor a temporary lift on the ban for the restriction on underage magic.  To allow magic to be used not just to defend oneself and others but also to allow students to practice outside of school."  Lupin set down his teacup as he continued, "Look, Dumbledore is determined to have at least you be allowed to be able to practice and begin tutoring before the summer is out.  As a last resort, he would have you move back to Hogwarts early."  Harry's eyes got big and he struggled not to shout his agreement.  Lupin smiled and added, "But you need to remain here for at least a while.  Dumbledore said you would understand why?"  

            Harry had looked down at this and was biting his lip, "Yeah.  Not really, but I know why he says I have to stay here."  Harry's stomach gave a hungry growl and he grimaced and reached for a sandwich.   Lupin watched as he began to nibble and topped off his tea before he said, "Albus said you've been told about the prophecy."  

He watched as Harry's face flush and as he nearly choked on his food; his brow furrowed in concern as Harry had to wash down his food with a large gulp of tea and then grimaced from drinking so much of such a hot liquid, before he could say,  "You know?  Does everyone know?"  

Lupin studied his face as he answered evenly, "It _was_ rather big news when it first came to light some sixteen years ago.  Everyone in the order knew."  

Harry thought on this as he looked across the room, "Everyone?"  Lupin nodded.  Harry's heart fell as he realized that people he thought really cared about him:  Mr. and Mrs. Weasely, Lupin, and--_oh god--Sirius_--Sirius had only cared so much because of the prophecy.   They were only worried about making sure he was okay so he could fulfill the prophecy.  He felt sick and felt that prickling in his eyes again as he looked around the room for a way to get away, "Well, I'm fine so I should just let you get going then."  He was standing up and about to step towards the door when Lupin stood up and stopped him. 

"Harry!  Wait Harry," he was searching Harry's face.

Harry felt that he was about to lose control, curl up right there and howl if he didn't get away _now_.  "Just--let me--you don't need to check on me.   I'm FINE," he said, nearly pleading.  He really wished Lupin would just let him go as it took all his strength to speak with such conviction and to not let out whatever was trying to burst out of his chest.  Lupin lifted his hand from Harry's shoulder and Harry was nearly bolting through the doorway when he stopped--turned around and, with is eyes blazing, asked, "If everyone knew, and Wormtail was in the order then, why didn't Voldemort already know the prophecy?"  

Lupin stood staring at Harry for a moment and then stepped towards him, opened his mouth and then shut it.  His brow furrowed and he then moved backwards towards the settee and looked concerned as he said, "He did.  He does.  Harry, I thought Albus explained?"  

Harry felt betrayal and anger rise in himself. "_WHAT_? Then what the hell was the whole Department of Mysteries thing?!  A field trip?" He was walking back towards Lupin and sat down, this time in one of the chairs across from him and out the pure necessity to keep from falling to the floor.  "Why--_WHY_--would he want the recording then if he already _knew_?" Harry demanded to know.

Lupin looked Harry in the eyes as he said, "Harry, the recording had the _entire_ prophecy on it.  All anyone knows now is the beginning; the part that led Voldemort to seek you out in the first place.  Harry, Voldemort wanted--still wants--to hear the _entire_ thing."  

Harry visibly relaxed and shut his eyes as he realized what Lupin had meant.  He was holding his head in his hands and was struggling to keep in his emotions that, it seemed, had been temporarily held at bay by his short burst of anger.  "Harry?"  Lupin was on one knee in front of him and had placed a hand on his head. The gesture, so much like something that Sirius or his own father might have done if they'd have had the chance, broke his last shred of restraint.  Tears seeped from his eyes as he choked on a sob that came up from someplace that had long been neglected.  

After a few minutes, Lupin pulled out a handkerchief and offered it to Harry as he moved his hand to Harry's shoulder and gave it a squeeze, "Albus did tell you all this, didn't he?"  

Harry had refused the handkerchief and was wiping his eyes on the front of his shirt and he nodded as he sniffled.  "Yeah.  But I thought…nevermind...I understand now."   

Lupin watched Harry for a moment and then asked, "Harry, did _you_ hear any of the prophecy when it broke?"  Lupin watched carefully as Harry looked up with eyes still red and a bit puffy and behind his glasses.  

Harry's eyes searched Lupin's for something; some answer or maybe some question.  _No_, Harry thought, _if Dumbledore felt it was necessary to lie to the Order about what was known about the prophecy, then I shouldn't tell_.  "No.  I--No."  Harry studied Lupin's weathered and worn face carefully and said, "Sorry, for a minute I thought you were saying that everyone else knew the entire thing and I had been lied to."  _Again_.  _You didn't know I was the only one who could kill him.  _"Do you know who overheard the prophecy?"  _And who do **you** think heard it in the first place?_

Lupin pulled back from Harry and sat on the floor in front of Harry as he paused before saying, "Snape."  Harry's eyes widened as he went on, "Snape heard it when he was a Death Eater-- they all knew because they were being used to help decipher whom it could mean.  That's when Snape came to Dumbledore and informed him of the prophecy and we were able to decipher it the best we could.  We had it narrowed down to you or Neville Longbottom--your birthdays are only a day apart.  We only found out who heard it after the fact.  Albus told me when I came to Hogwarts to teach.  He told the Order when it reconvened a year ago that Snape was the reason we had found out about the prophecy and had been shown trustworthy because he was the one who informed the Order that Voldemort had identified you and Neville as being the candidates for the prophecy.  That was what allowed your parents and the Longbottom's to go into hiding under Fidelius."  Lupin appeared to age years as he sighed and went on, "It didn't help your parents though, did it."  

Harry's jaw had dropped.  _It didn't make sense!  **Dumbledore** had heard it!!  Snape--?!?--If this was why the Order trusted Snape, why--WHY--did Dumbledore trust him??  _"Don't you know who _gave_ the prophecy or who _heard_ it to begin with?" Harry asked.  

Lupin shook his head.  "Not all prophecies are given conveniently it would seem.  Whomever Voldemort's informant was, they only heard the first few lines."  

As Lupin stood up to walk Harry home, he informed Harry to practice censoring his OWL post.  "An order member will be around to see you in person at least twice a week--whether at Arabella's or… something.  I'm free to do it for the first few weeks."  

Harry asked, "You don't have to go on any missions?"  

Lupin took a deep breath and said, "Albus has given me time off.  To grieve."  

They both stopped walking and Harry felt that incredible sorrow for his own loss and the shame of causing Lupin to feel grief as well.  "I'm sorry," he said.  "I should not have gone--I should have used the mirror--he gave me a mirror to use in case I needed to contact him and I just never even opened it!"  

Lupin looked confused, "What mirror?"  

"The two-way mirror Sirius said he and my dad used to use.  He had given it to me wrapped up as a gift just before I left after Christmas Holidays and said to use it to contact him if I ever needed him.  I thought…I--I thought if I complained to him every time something went wrong at school, he would be reckless and risk his own safety to help me so I stuffed the package at the bottom of my trunk and forgot about it.  I could have used it!  Avoided Umbridge's office and avoided Kreacher!"  The self-loathing that'd been eating away at Harry was back again in full force.

Lupin stood in front of Harry and put both hands on his shoulders.  "Harry, listen to me.  Don't blame yourself.  It is _not_ your fault.  You were right to think Sirius would have risked himself to help you.  He would have and he did."  

Harry cut in, "And he is dead because of it!"  

Lupin looked fiercely into his eyes.  "No--he could not have lived with himself if he hadn't.  You acted to save someone you cared about to the best of your knowledge.  You were deliberately misled and lied to.  Harry-_you_ are not to blame!"  

Harry hung his head as he mumbled, "I could have mastered Occlumency and not have been tricked.  I could have used the mirror."  

Lupin sighed.  "Harry, it's a losing game to play 'I could have' or 'what if'.  I can play it too and does no one any good.  We can't change the past and we have to forgive ourselves to get on with our own futures.  Now as the last true Marauder, I am ordering you forgive yourself because it is the Marauder creed--'One for all and all for one' and your father would have done no less to attempt to save one of us he thought was in danger.  Nor Sirius.  Nor I, for that matter.  It gets lonely being the last Marauder--I did it for thirteen years.  I just may have to make you an honorary inductee."  Harry smiled at this and they began the walk back to Privet Drive.  "Is there anything you need?  Stuff to keep you busy?  Books?"  

Harry thought about this and said, "Books would be good.  I imagine we won't get book lists until later this year but whatever they have in the department of, 'So There's a Dark Lord After You and You're Not Quite Ready to Die Yet' would be helpful."  

Lupin smiled as he left Harry at the front of Number Four.  "I'll see what I can find."

Chapter 3.  Books, News, and Letters

Two days later, the sudden apparition of Fawkes startled Harry out of practicing different ways to draw his wand.  So far his favorite was where he imitated a television show he had seen Dudley staring at where a muggle drew a gun and twirled it around, pointed it and said, "Do you feel lucky, punk?"  He could just imagine the look on Draco Malfoy's ferret face if he did _that_ with his wand.

Fawkes dropped a brown paper-wrapped package with a note atop Harry's desk and flew over to land on his shoulder.   Fawkes always gave Harry an incredible feeling of comfort and hope--something that he was desperately lacking right now.  Harry went to his desk and sat down to remove and open the note as Fawkes flew over to discuss whatever it is he would discuss with Hedwig.  Harry was glad his Uncle was still at work and his Aunt was somewhere other than here because he was sure that the intermingled hooting and trilling of the two birds would test the color range of his Uncle's face.  __

_Harry- _

_Remus mentioned your request for some reading material so I have sent along some of my own books for you to help in passing the time during your stay with your relatives.  You may keep them as long as you need._

_I hope this letter finds you well.  You will not need stay at your relative's for too long.  A few weeks are all you are required to be there.  I hope to be retrieving you personally and will let you know shortly in advance of when you may expect to be leaving.  _

_Fawkes is a most reliable and secure messenger and will wait for your reply.  Please, let me know if there is anything else you need.  Ms. Granger has requested I forward a letter of her own with a package for you.  _

_Take Care, _

_Albus Dumbledore_

So that explained why Fawkes was still trilling patiently at Hedwig; he wanted a reply.  Only about a million questions leapt to mind that Harry wanted Dumbledore to answer.  …_A most reliable and secure messenger_…  Harry took that to mean there was no chance of interception.  Well, it made sense that Phoenixes could disappear and reappear at will so intercepting them in flight or however it is they travel would be rather difficult.  Not to mention, Harry could well remember that Fawkes could defend himself and others quite adequately.   There's a carcass of a dead and blinded basilisk that can testify to that.  

Harry wondered momentarily what to write.  _Should I ask him?  Would he even tell me?_  Harry wondered if Dumbledore might finally let the reason Snape was to be trusted be known.  _He has to tell me something; I already know he has lied to the order_.  

Harry's feelings towards Professor Dumbledore varied greatly during the course of each day.  Often he felt anger towards the man for being the cause of his incarceration with his anything-but-loving muggle relations and for never quite answering all of Harry's questions.  Sometimes he felt he had let Dumbledore down by acting recklessly and endangering several of his fellow students and the lives of several Order members, not to mention causing the death of Sirius that night at the Ministry.  _Lupin said not to blame yourself.  He has to say that, you prat, they need you to do what no one else can.  _And at rare moments Harry thought perhaps he would like to make Dumbledore proud by living up to the high expectations he had for Harry.  But this thought was usually chased away by a bitter voice in Harry's head that screamed with indignation, "Why should **_I_**, a teenager, a child not even allowed into the Order committed to fight Voldemort, have to accept this burden??!?  Why **_my_** narrow shoulders?!?"  He knew in his heart that whether it was known to be his burden or not, he would have committed himself to fighting anyway but the fact that the burden was his and his alone made him feel more than a little indignant that he had not been told sooner nor had he been given more than one decent year with a DADA teacher who knew their stuff to help him prepare to fight, oh, only the biggest dark wizard of the century or so.  

"Prepare.  How in Merlin's name am I to prepare for this?" Harry asked out loud to Hedwig and Fawkes.  It was then that Fawkes flew over to perch upon the box from Dumbledore still sitting on his desk and still unopened.  Harry wondered briefly what Sirius would say if he had known the details of the prophecy as he tore off the wrapping.  Inside the box, there were several well-worn books.  There was: _A Wizard and his Wand, Dueling with Wizards Who Play Dirty, Magic of the Mind: Occlumency and Legilimency, Defensive Magic to Avoid Death, Auror Training: Level 1, Spells for Stealth and Precaution_, and the last few books each had a note taped to its cover.  

The note on _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts: A History of Dark Lords and their Ascensions to Power_ said, "It may be helpful to understand the motivation of what inspired the rise of previous dark lords and the history behind them."  

The note, "It is important to understand what one may be facing to properly prepare a defense." was attached to _Art Caligo:  An Illuminating Primer to the Dark Arts_.  .

The last book was _Mysteries and Cultural Perspectives on Death and Dying in the Wizarding World_ to which the longest note was attached:

_"Harry, The wizarding world has some very different customs and beliefs about death and dying than the muggle world.  This book should help you better understand those differences and the beliefs of our world.  I recommend reading the section on "End of Life Celebrations and Memorials" so you can know what to expect when we arrange for a Celebration for Sirius.  I would like your help and input for the planning of this event which I hope we can arrange to occur before the start of next term.  Please let me know if you have any questions or suggestions in the meantime.  Remember that Sirius loved you and would be furious if he thought you were blaming yourself for his death.   This is the beginning of dangerous times for all of us and we must remain united and learn to rely on our friends and loved ones to help each other through difficult times.  --AD"_

_Well, that certainly adds a few questions_, Harry thought.  What in the world is a "Celebration" and why would anyone think that he--Harry-- would want to celebrate a _death_??  "I guess those answers are in the book, huh."  Harry noticed as he said this that Fawkes seemed in no hurry for a reply.  He and Hedwig seemed to be getting quite cozy, as their chatter was now more of a soft cooing to each other.  _Odd_, Harry thought as he reached for a small book-shaped parcel that was wrapped in muggle tissue paper and removed the note that had his name written on it in Hermione's neat script.  "Let me guess," he started as he was tearing open the envelope.  In a high voice he mimicked, "Oh Harry, I hope your fine and I can't say much, don't be mad at me.  It's all for your own good.  Don't blame yourself."  But as he removed a rather thick bunch of stationary, he began to think it was awfully long for a letter that only said she couldn't say anything.

_Dear Harry, _

_Professor McGonagall is currently visiting my home and helping my parents make arrangements to go on an extended leave.  McGonagall explained the impending "climate" in the wizarding world and I thought my parents were nearly about to forbid me from returning to Hogwarts.  But, Thank God, McGonagall explained that Hogwarts is the safest place to be and that her visit was due to concern for the families of "prominent muggleborns" (in other words--anyone who has slapped Ferret Boy).  Anyway, she has suggested my parents take a well-timed long vacation out of the country to volunteer for a year abroad in another country offering their skills and abilities as dentists in lesser-privileged communities.  I agreed with her suggestion and now my parents are with her downstairs working out the details.  I have yet to find out when they will leave or where I will be staying the remainder of Holiday when they do leave.  Anyway, Professor McGonagall asked me if I would like to write a letter to be forwarded to you for her to take back to Hogwarts.  She emphasized that Dumbledore would be using a "secure" means of getting it to you.  I know how frustrated you were last year without any news so here it is!_

_The Daily Prophet has been raving up the "brilliance" of Fudge because he delayed in sending any of the Death Eaters that were caught the night at the Ministry directly to Azkaban so that when the dementors abandoned the island, there were no Death Eater prisoners there to be freed.  The whereabouts of the prisoners is currently unknown and being treated as "top secret".  (I, personally, assume this is all in thanks to Professor Dumbledore--there is no way Fudge is capable of independent thought at this level.)  Several people now write in everyday about how they saw Voldemort walking down the street or shopping in Diagon Alley.  (Honestly...)_

_Anyway, the paper loves you and Dumbledore again and a few students wrote in the other day bearing witness to your "displays of persevering conviction" in our first DADA class last year with She-Who-I-Cannot-Stand-to-Name. (Guess who wrote in-- Colin and Dennis Creevey--the fact that they were not actually there did not seem to stop them from telling the tale.)  Lee Jordon was quoted in an interview on the street telling how he was made to write lines with a quill using his own blood and now the Ministry has "expressed concern and shock" at HER behavior and has officially opened an inquiry to investigate That Evil Woman, however, IT has apparently disappeared and no one has seen IT since IT was chased out of Hogwarts by Peeves.  (My blood is still boiling at the things that "Woman" got away with!)    Also, the Ministry repealed each and every one of those bogus Educational Decrees beginning with the one where the Ministry could appoint people to vacant teaching positions.  Thank God!!  I am drafting a note for Professor Dumbledore requesting a formal investigation into the behavior of Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson because of their abuse of authority last year.  From what I read in the Prefects' Handbook, they should both be losing their badges.  At this rate, next year promises to be a definite improvement._

_Ok, I think that is all the news I have.  On a more personal note, how are you doing?  I know losing Sirius must be incredibly painful for you.  I miss him too.  It was you and I who helped save him in third year and it keeps going through my mind how we might have saved him this time, too.  I am so sorry for your loss, Harry.  I could tell you were still rather in shock when we were leaving Hogwarts.  Harry, you must not think it was your fault; Voldemort has tricked and manipulated older and wiser wizards than you and we all did what we thought was the right thing.  I know you will blame yourself no matter what I say but know this-- no one else blames you.  I wish there was more I could say to help you believe this.  Please write back and let me know how you are doing and if you need anything at all.  Send Hedwig but remember to speak guardedly when writing.  _

_They are almost finished downstairs and I need to send this off.  I am including my birthday gift for you early because I think it might help you now.  Take care and I hope to see you soon._

_With Love From, _

_Hermione_

Harry's jaw had dropped when he realized the letter was a recap of all the news to date.  Harry had not continued his subscription to The Daily Prophet due to the fact that the paper seemed to only like to print lies, untruths, and especially slander on 15-year-old boys--with occasional Quidditch scores, too.  Hermione's gift of a personal diary mystified Harry for the most part and he could not imagine how a blank book was something that might help him now.  At least the package of books sent from Professor Dumbledore offered him reading material. 

Fawkes flew over to the desk and Harry was reminded that Dumbledore was expecting a reply.  Harry stared at Fawkes as he said, "Oh, I'll write a reply."  

Chapter 4.  Celebrations of Life

_Professor Dumbledore, _

_Thank you very much for lending me your books.  They will indeed help to pass my sentence here.  Exactly how long must I remain here, when I can leave and where will I be going?  _

_Professor Lupin mentioned that I may be getting training or tutoring before the summer is up--what king of training and from whom?  He also mentioned that you had told him that I now knew the prophecy--which caused me quite a bit of confusion.  I gather from speaking with him that what the Order knows is not the same as what I was told?  Is there anyone else besides you and myself who know?  Isn't it a possibility that Voldemort may be able to glean this knowledge from my own mind?  Also, I asked Professor Lupin whether he knew who had heard it and he told me about Snape bringing the information to the Order--he claimed this deed was why the Order now knows that Snape is trustworthy.  Is there anything else I should be aware that the Order believes?  _

_Is there anyone I may tell or do you believe it should remain secret?  I have been thinking, the prophecy really does not say that much-- if Voldemort found out, I daresay he would be disappointed that it is so vague and, for the most part, after the fact.  Why should this remain so secret?  I am not anxious to have neither everyone nor anyone knows but I do not understand why absolute secrecy is required and an explanation would be much appreciated.  _

_You asked me if there is anything else I need, well I severely doubt I should hope for such freedom, but it has been nearly three years since I have been able to go to Diagon Alley.  I sorely need several things besides just my books for next year including making a trip to Gringotts.  Is there anyway at all I could arrange to go sometime before school begins?  _

_Also, I know this may seem trivial, but I was wondering if anyone knew if my Firebolt was still at school?  Last I heard it was in a dungeon guarded by a security troll.  _

_Thank you again for the books, I shall take good care of them.  _

_Harry _

_P.S.   I assume it was you who arranged for Professor McGonagall to help the Grangers relocate to safety for the time being; thank you very much.  I know Hermione appreciates it and I do as well.  _

Albus Dumbledore looked up from reading the letter to stroke his long white beard and to watch Fawkes who had settled onto his perch.  "I think this calls for a visit."  

Ireland is home to the birth of the custom of a "Wake".  Lead cups were once used to drink ale or whiskey. The combination would sometimes knock a drinker out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the custom of holding a "wake". 

Respect for the dead has always been a prominent feature of Irish culture. Indeed, the _bean sí_spirit is often rumored to have announced, by her wailing, the impending death of a member of a family. The death and burial and, in former times, the waking of the dead is an important social occasion.

Family and friends had hoped to "wake" the dead by telling stories of fond memories, singing songs, and even playing games.  This was considered the proper way to pay tribute to the deceased person.  This custom of not mourning, but celebration was carried forth to sculpt modern wizarding memorial services.   

Ok, so that explained where the idea of a celebration came from.  Harry couldn't help wondering, though, what would this be like without a body to wake--much less celebrate?  Harry had been to a funeral once when he was seven.  An elderly neighbor had passed away and at that time and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia insisted that they always attend services at St. Catherine's off Sussex Gardens.  The entire family--plus Harry--had been dragged to mass every Sunday morning to ensure that the Dursleys were seen as upstanding, perfectly normal citizens and Harry was a token of their Christian kindness and generosity.  Aunt Petunia would pretend to make a fuss over Harry having refused to wear the clothes his Aunt had suggested when in reality; he had no choice at all.  Harry was even sent to attend classes each summer that Dudley never had to go to.  So, when well-liked Mr. Neighbor from Number Six had passed away, nearly the entire congregation attended the funeral--including the Dursleys and Harry.  Harry now suspected that his Aunt and Uncle had hoped to have the Catholic Church help "stomp the magic out of him" because they all stopped going and Harry was forbidden to go near St. Catherine's after an incident when Harry was nine.  He had been chosen to play the church organ for the choir practices after Father Moran found him once trying rather successfully to play music by ear.  Father Moran had called upon the Dursleys them to tell this wonderful news about their nephew and that of course the Dursleys must be so proud.  But Harry was never allowed back and none of the Dursleys ever bothered to go anyone on Sunday mornings after that.  Harry was quite sure that the Dursleys were probably most irate that he might have been enjoying his time away from Dudley and out of his cupboard.  

Harry flipped another few pages in the book _Mysteries and Cultural Perspectives on Death and Dying in the Wizarding World.  _He found a section on the rituals of Wizarding Life Celebrations.  

Celebrations are hosted by the closest kin of the deceased.  The timing of a Celebration is intended to signify the end of the grieving or mourning period and the acceptance of the death.   Depending upon the time it takes for the surviving kin to complete mourning, Celebrations are often not held until weeks, months or even a year after a person's death.   

The Celebration is meant to bring together all those whom share fond memories of the deceased and share the joy of those memories with the passing of the fey rod.  The custom of the fey rod began with Welsh wizards and witches who would create an aspen rod or wand with the magical core of a hair from the deceased.  The rod or wand was passed around to be held as each person spoke of their fondest memory of the deceased.  The core of the wand was thought to direct the joy to comfort the departed soul beyond the veil.  Today's Wizarding society knows that no magic can reach beyond the veil and that comfort will only help the living.  

Current custom is to pass around either a phoenix feather or a wand made of the wood from a Holly tree--the Tree of Life.  However, both are rare to come by and many wand makers may keep a special holly wand reserved to be lent out for use at Celebrations while Phoenix feathers are customarily passed forth and reused.  The original tradition held that a freshly rendered phoenix feather would ignite upon being touched with a holly wand of the closest kin who had sufficiently grieved enough to be able to feel pure joy in the memory of knowing the deceased.  The ignited feather was then used to light the Life Light that signified the beginning of the Celebration.  Today the Celebration Light is usually lit prior to the gathering.   

A shout from Aunt Petunia downstairs, "Harry!!!" yanked Harry away from reading.  "There is someone here to _see_ you!  Hurry Up!"  Harry wondered who in the world had ever come here to see him.  _It must be an Order member_, he figured as he opened his door and turned to walk down the stairs.  

"Hello Harry," Lupin greeted as he watched Harry come downstairs.  "I was wondering if you might visit for tea.  Like last time."  Lupin had a soft smile as he watched Harry check him over, obviously wondering if there had been an emergency and then quickly shifting the look on his face from apprehension to a cooler look of mistrust.  Lupin held up his hand and said, "Did you get the package from Fawkes?  Albus told me he sent it his morning."  

Harry nodded and came all the way down to the landing.  "I'm ready." 

Outside Number Four, Lupin explained that Professor Dumbledore was at Mrs. Figg's house and had wanted to have tea with Harry.  Harry felt a rush of hope that he might be able to leave Privet Drive even sooner than he had expected or maybe that he would be able to go to Diagon Alley today to finally refill his money bag and pick up new robes, cloak, and broomstick polish.  The Firebolt was the first gift from Sirius and he had been worried about its safety and condition ever since he realized he was here in Surrey and the broom was up at Hogwarts.  He knew it would need a thorough cleaning after who had had their dirty hands on it.  

As they arrived on the porch of Mrs. Figg's house, Mrs. Figg herself opened the door and stepped out saying, "Remus are you ready?  Harry, go on in, Albus is already eating."    

"Where are you both going?" Harry questioned searchingly.

"Arabella wanted help with an errand.  You'll be alright?"  Lupin continued, "I'll be back to walk you home."

Harry walked in and through the hall to the parlor where there, in an house that looked like the epitome of muggleness, sat Professor Dumbledore in a bright purple robe and hat with twinkling gold stars and moons on the doily-covered settee with a cat eating ham out of his outstretched palm.  "Hello Sir."

"Harry--" his attention was momentarily drawn back to the cat who had given up trying to nibble and grabbed the entire piece of meat, "--how are you?"  As Dumbledore peered over his half-moon glasses with his twinkling blue eyes and searched the depths oh Harry's own eyes, he could not help but feel like a child who had just been caught being naughty red-handed.  He thought that perhaps he had been a little too tetchy in his reply to the headmaster yesterday.  

"Er…" --no wait-- he was _not_ sorry.  He deserved the answers he had asked for and to know who knew what and to whom he could talk to and why.  He couldn't be expected to handle all this without ever telling anyone, could he?  Hermione for one would know for sure that he was keeping _something_ secret.  " I'm fine.  And you sir?"  Harry was standing straight up as he said it and felt he would _not_ be leaving until got some answers.  


	2. Chapter 5 Some Answers

Chapter 5.  Some Answers

"Why thank you for asking Harry, I am feeling quite stretched these days and am constantly second-guessing myself.  Are you sure you are fine?  Please sit down here."  The headmaster looked wearied as he said this and gestured to the seat beside him.  

Harry was a little stunned at such an answer--especially such a …er…well…_forward_ answer.  "Thank you again Sir for the books.  I've started reading a bit.  I gather you received my note?"  Harry was not quite sure whether the idea of a Dumbledore who seemed willing to actually answer questions was either a good thing or a little bit of a frightening thing.  

Dumbledore smiled at Harry as he began, "Yes, I did.  I knew you would have questions after you had time to begin to absorb everything.  I am sorry….well, I am sorry that you had to find out what you know when and how you did.  There are many details of the prophecy, the Order and the night you lost your parents that I just couldn't see fit to include in the telling that night in my office."  Dumbledore was studying Harry with a mixture of sorrow, sincerity and slight regret, "Ideally, I would have told you everything all at once and we could have discussed everything to the point of mutual understanding and you would then have had time to yourself to deal with what it all might mean.  Time where you are not simultaneously trying to cope with the loss of loved one.  Of course, in a truly ideal world, no one person would have ever been given such a …fate.

"My top priority right now is you, Harry.  I feel by delaying in making you aware of the truth, I did not delay the burden at all, but rather prevented you from preparing yourself for a burden that was always and already upon you."

"What about the Order?" Harry asked as it was a little too much for the seemingly most important wizard in the world to have his top priority be himself, what with Voldemort now without a reason to not terrorize wizards, witches, and muggles alike according to his every whim.   

"The burden upon the Order to oppose Voldemort has been significantly decreased since the Ministry has accepted his return.  Let's start with the Order.  Harry, The Order of the Phoenix is nearly as old as Hogwarts and is dedicated to opposing the Dark Lord--whomever it may be.  With you, Harry, being known to me, the Lead Light of the Phoenix, as the one with the sole ability to vanquish the Dark Lord, I can tell you that the top priority of the Order, is you.  Wait--" Harry had opened his mouth to speak but was stopped, "If there was not just one person known to be the sole route to defeating the Dark Lord or if no one person was known to be with a power able to vanquish, the Order would then have its primary focus on bringing about the defeat of the Dark Lord--in any way possible.  The prophecy tells us that a defeat of the Dark Lord will be at your hand.  Not at anyone else's.  Therefore the Order is dedicated to protecting you and aiding you in any way you need.  Whether our members know you are the only person with this ability or whether they believe you are one of possible others--does not matter to them.  

"It is true I have deliberately misled the Order to believe certain things about the prophecy and how it came to be known.  The reasons for this should be known to you; you yourself will need to understand the ramifications of what others knowing the full truth may be.  You asked me if I thought the prophecy should remain secret and if it might be unwise to tell anyone else.  I cannot answer that question for you but I can tell you why I have acted as I have.  I have considered my knowledge of the prophecy to be sacred to you and only you and have not shared it in its entirety to a single soul _but_ you.   It is entirely your choice what you do with the knowledge you now have.  

"The night the prophecy was made, the eavesdropper who had been in the hallway when I had just opened the door to leave and Sibyll went into her trance was not thrown from the premises until after I had talked to him.  The one who overheard the beginning had seen me enter the Hog's Head and go upstairs and was awaiting my leaving the private room in order to speak with me and could not have expected to have overheard anything as important as they did, any more so than I.   You might have recognized the owner and bartender at the Hog's Head when you and your friends went in there last year--he looks somewhat like me, only not quite as well aged--even if I do say so myself.  He is my brother, Aberforth.  When Aberforth had come upstairs to check on Sibyll and I, he saw the person in the hall and myself closing the door upon hearing Sibyll go into her trance.  Aberforth believed the person in the hall to have been skulking around or intentionally eavesdropping and so stunned him and tossed him into the back alley.  When I was finally ready to leave for the night my brother informed of what he had seen and done and told me to deal with the man as I saw fit.  

"It turns out that the man was waiting to approach me to discuss helping my efforts against Voldemort.  He was in a prime position of knowledge and because of his family, would be expected to willingly receive the Mark by the end of the year.  He had absolutely no desire to do such a thing but saw an opportunity in acting to fulfill his expectations while secretly being loyal to the cause of the Order.  

"I was presented with a very difficult decision that night.  If decided to memory charm the man, I felt sure that when his eventual Marking came about, that Voldemort would first search his mind to know his loyalty and see perhaps, not only that he was not loyal to the cause of the Death Eaters but also a block in his memories, indicating a memory charm.   Voldemort, as you know, will stop at nothing to know what information might be so important as to warrant obliviation.  So memory charming the man would only surely end in the very person I _least_ wanted to know there even _had_ been a prophecy, knowing everything the man had overheard-- as well as surely destroying the mind and life of the man.  

"On the other hand, I could see that the man was indeed sincere in his adamancy to _not_ support Voldemort and if he were enabled with skills to withstand the Legilimency powers of Voldemort, his connections would prove quite invaluable.   I chose to put my faith in him--_and I was not mistaken_--I am _quite_ sure I made the best choice to be made. 

"I began to meet secretly with him, training him to be a master Occlumens.  He would need to be able to withstand a Legilimency power equal to mine to have a hope of being successful against Voldemort.  As you well know, Harry, being trained in Occlumency offers many of your memories up for display to whomever is teaching you and from my time with this man, I can say I more than know him and his loyalties--I _understand_ him.  He was eventually successful in mastering Occlumency in time for his arranged initiation as a Death Eater.  He was able to successfully filter and screen his memories and emotions in the presence of the Dark Lord and Voldemort never suspected a thing.  

"In the meantime, with the skill at which my new spy was able to shuttle me information, the Order was quickly becoming quite the nuisance to Voldemort and his servants.  I soon began to suspect, however, that we the Order might have had a spy of our own in our midst because, with incredible accuracy, members of our previously secret order were being attacked and killed.  Our traitor, of course, we now know to have been Peter."  Dumbledore had maintain an intensive fervor as he was relating his tale but paused here to linger and looked across the room before turning back to an enraptured Harry to continue, "All Order members and their families were soon pulling out every protection and warding spell they knew to prevent falling fate to the horrible things that had been done to the Edgar and his family, Benjy, the McKinnons… 

Your parents moved to your father's ancestral home in Godric's Hollow that was already imbued with several layers of ancient protection.  The Longbottoms--to their own family home.  Both you and Neville, the two candidates I saw for The One of the prophecy, were safe.  

"With times as they were, I felt it was important to tell your parents and the Longbottoms that one of their sons was likely implicated in a prophecy as a threat to the Dark Lord.  I explained that at the time, Voldemort had no knowledge of this prophecy but that if it was known, there was a strong possibility that either or both families would be targeted.  At the time I could not bring myself to tell either young couple that one of their barely-crawling sons would bear an incredible burden of fate--it would have tore them up and possibly compromised any future you all would have had together.    My faith in our spy was steadfast.  And your mother, an incredibly gifted witch and not one to just sit home and do nothing--even if she did have you for company, began searching ancient magic texts for spells to aid those in hiding.  It was at your first birthday party, Harry that your mother told me she believed she had found something--the Fidelius Charm.  It was a brilliant idea and a very complex and obscure spell-- are you familiar with it?"  

Harry nodded, "Yes, it uses a Secret-Keeper--like you are for the Order's location."  

Dumbledore smiled and nodded and went on, "Well, your mother began to endeavor to master casting the charm and in the meantime, the attacks on our members had ceased.  

"My spy, however, had begun to come under suspicion and was losing favor with Voldemort.  As his pressure to prove himself increased, he was asked to carry out more _testing_ orders.  Up until that point Voldemort had not demanded much of him other than the use of a few of his skills.  He bore the Mark but had never been a mask-wearing servant out amongst the populace.  When he began to be seen as hesitant to commit acts torture or to kill directly, he was being watched too closely to shunt any information to me without risking himself even more.  

"He met with me one last time to say he could not risk spying or contacting me anymore.  He assured me he would take the secret he knew of the prophecy to his grave.  I believe he would have, if I had not decided that the Fidelius Charm would allow your family and the Longbottoms to safely live even if the beginning of the prophecy were known.  I told my spy that we had found an ancient spell with which our members may hide and that if his life were on the line, he might offer the information of the prophecy to Voldemort to regain favor and trust.  My spy guessed it was the Fidelius Charm--he said it was known by Death Eaters that Order members might be using it to hide.  

"This mattered not-- for the beauty of the charm meant that even if someone knew one was using it, it did not help.  Only the Secret-Keeper can reveal the location or break the charm.  I was, however, rather unnerved by this knowledge of our plans to use Fidelius being known to Voldemort.  As far as I knew, your mother had only told their close friends--Frank and Alice Longbottom, Sirius, Remus and Peter and myself about what she had found.  This narrowed the scope of who our traitor might be considerably.  

"I told your mother and father about the leaked information about using Fidelius.  I cannot pretend to know the doubts in loyalty this caused them nor the tensions it created among all the friends.  Remus and Sirius told me it had been brought up in the open to all but debated in private among each other.  

"It was shortly thereafter that my spy was indeed having his loyalties questioned again and was, one night, being subjected to the Cruciatus and Legilimency by Voldemort to such a degree that he believed it would not end until he was insane and his mind broke.  He began to filter his memories and create memories to produce a history of having been put under Imperious by me to act as a spy and having been memory charmed by me after overhearing a prophecy.  Voldemort was quite shocked.  He removed what he believed was an Imperious curse on my spy and then gave him reprieve for such valuable information.  The spy was able to fake gaining back his memory of the prophecy and then relate what he knew to Voldemort.  

"My spy let me know at once what he had done and that it would be only a matter of time before Voldemort and his servants had narrowed down who The One may be--interpreting the prophecy was immediately their top priority.  

"With the beginning of the prophecy known to all of Voldemort's servants, there was no point to keep it secret from the Order.  They were all told and your parents and the Longbottoms were advised to commence the Fidelius Charm immediately.  I offered to be Secret-Keeper for both.  There was, however, a concern whether one person could act simultaneously as Secret-Keeper.  The idea of both families hiding together was not favorable because, I believe as your father put it, it would have been like putting all our eggs in one basket.  Your mother and father meet with me privately to say they suspected Remus as the traitor and would go with Sirius as their Secret-Keeper.  Your father then lent me his invisibility cloak for the use of the Order as it would be redundant for him to have use of it when under such a powerful hiding charm.  That was just over a week before Halloween and the last time I saw your parents alive."  Dumbledore sighed in memory and looked down at his lap before looking back at Harry.

"Of course we now know they pulled a switch at the last minute and used Peter as a bluff for the charm.   Peter must have told Voldemort that he still had a spy that had informed us that there had been a prophecy.  Voldemort told no one that the Potter's Secret-Keeper had betrayed them--my spy could not help us.  Lord Voldemort went alone that night to Godric's Hollow when he marked you with the curse that backfired and unwittingly brought to fruition the next portion or the prophecy.  The rest you know."  Dumbledore sighed deeply and shook his head gently as if he had just relived the events of the past allover again.  He reached over to pour two cups of tea and handed one to a slightly numb Harry.  

"It was Snape.  He was your spy.  The eavesdropper."  Harry could only stare down at the cup of tea he had been handed.  "The one who told the prophecy to Voldemort."  _You must master yourself, Potter_.  Harry felt an incredible cold spread through him.  _He should have died_. Harry could not even begin to fathom the injustice of the fact that Snape had essentially saved his own life at the cost of the lives of Harry's mother and father.  

"I have long blamed myself for the deaths of your parents, Harry.  Professor Snape, _I have no doubt_, would have taken the secret to his grave had I not given him the assurance that the Order was prepared for the information to be let out and had I not made it my wish that he might choose to use the information to save himself, if necessary.  

"Professor Snape, on the other hand, I believe still blames himself as evidenced by the efforts he has made to save your life, protect, and help you.  I told you in your first year that Professor Snape acted to save you on your jinxed broom during a quidditch game because of a life debt he owed your father.  He never was able to pay back that debt to your father and feels, rather that he was a cause in the deaths of both your father and mother.  Harry, as far as life debts go, Professor Snape feels he owes you three."

"He _hated_ my father--_he hates me!  _He can take his life debts and keep them--I would be content with him just treating me with slightly less loathing."

"I cannot say I was not hoping that by having Professor Snape train you in Occlumency, you both might learn to understand each other in slightly different lights.  I think I might have hoped for too much.  I do want you to master it but I will train you myself."

Harry was barely listening now_.  Snape could have saved my father--my mother--me from having to live with the Dursleys! Snape could have helped save Sirius--he could have prevented Sirius from ever enduring 12 years in Azkaban.  And yet, he claims to be ~unwaveringly~ adamant in his opposition of Voldemort but chooses to hate the only one who can actually defeat him! _ "So why is it that you think the full prophecy is best left secret?"  Harry was imagining Snape hearing that Harry was his only hope if he truly wanted to see Voldemort dead.  _Bastard! He thinks I am *spoiled*!  Yes, I can see it now, "Precious Potter, gets his own prophecy!"  As if I would *want* this!!_

"Well Harry, with Voldemort not knowing what the remainder of the prophecy is, the mystery of it is likely much larger than the reality of it.  Voldemort did not continue his pursuit of you when you lived after his resurrection; he felt he needed to know what it was he had not known before; he wanted the knowledge of how he could kill one with the power to vanquish him.  I think you might agree that anything that might give Voldemort pause to kill you, is a good thing?"

"Well yes," _So he wants to kill me--old news_, "But why not tell the order that you were the one who heard the prophecy and know it in full?"

"At the time I first told the Order that a spy had alerted me to the fact that Voldemort had heard the beginning of a prophecy concerning someone with the power to vanquish him, I was hoping to not contradict the story Severus had concocted.  In my mind it would be quite a long time--many years--until either you or Neville would ever be able to bring about the fall of Voldemort.  I felt it was important to hope that Severus would be able to continue spying.  If I told the truth, our own spy may have caused Severus to be under further scrutiny.  I never corrected the assumption of how we found out about it because I did not think it was necessary.  

"As a result when followers of Voldemort were being sought and questioned, I only had to vouch that Severus been a spy before the fall of Voldemort and that he had acted at great risk to himself--which he did.  My vouching for him on only this account meant I never contradicted the story he had led Voldemort to believe and has allowed him to have persuaded some followers that had returned to Voldemort last year, that Severus was and is leading _me_ on in acting as a spy and that his true loyalties remain with the Dark Lord.  It has remained advantageous to us to let everyone believe as they do.  

"However, recently after Voldemort's servants were able to take advantage of the Order's inability to constantly guard the Department of Mysteries, they gained entranced and were finally able to at least see the prophecy recording sphere on which they could read the initials of the persons who made the prophecy and to whom it was made.    The fact that the prophecy was made to me only seemed to solidify Severus' story of having been memory charmed by me to forget what he had heard.  He, in fact, has gained some favor since this became known.  

"When Lord Voldemort found I out I knew the entire prophecy, I believe he immediately assumed you would also know.  I believed he then tried to manipulate his connection to you in attempts to search your mind and memories for this knowledge.  We know he was unable to do any such thing.  It seems that the connection you have to see through Voldemort's eyes and to feel his emotions is not nearly as strong as Voldemort's ability to reach you.  However, he believed he could still use the connection to manipulate you by sending you specifically imagined scenarios and events--and he did."  Harry could not look at Dumbledore as he said this.  He was staring intently at the cup of tea held in his lap that had never been touched.  "It seems he believed that even though you might have heard the prophecy from me, that he might be able to convince you there might be more to it and to tempt you with the knowledge of the location of the complete recording.  However, you knew nothing of this and were mystified, perhaps, why you were dreaming of the Department of Mysteries and the route within to the recording.  He became desperate to lure you to procure the recording so that his servants might then bring it to him; so desperate that a new plan was devised--one that used the knowledge Kreacher had provided of the identity of the person for whom you cared a great deal and one whose whereabouts might be difficult to verify. "

"Then why not tell me the prophecy then and forget about learning Occlumency?" Harry asked dully as he leaned forward and set down the untouched cup of tea.

"By the time we knew of his inability to reach you, I had already left the school.  Occlumency is important for more than just controlling your scar connection with Voldemort.  Occlumency will be critical to you being able to be in his presence, where he might attempt to use the traditional method of Legilimency to gain access to your mind.  It is also the foundation for becoming skilled at preventing and fighting possession.  Mastering Occlumency remains a high priority for you and I will commit myself to helping you master it."  Harry was back to feeling the incredible guilt he had come to associate with his failure to master Occlumency.  "I have complete faith, Harry, in your ability to do so."  

"So…it should be kept secret to prevent anyone else from having to master Occlumency as well."  Harry seemed ready to accept he would have to keep the biggest secret he could ever imagine from everyone he knew.  

"Not so much that Harry, but yes, it remaining mostly secret does limit the chance of it becoming known.  I have come to believe that its secrecy is important because of what the knowledge might cause people to think.  They might think that they have no role to play in defeating Voldemort because they may believe that is merely your job.  They may, perhaps, further isolate you in your fame--either on a pedestal or under scrutiny.  They may, in the unfortunate event of your own defeat-- which I do hope and pray will _not_ come to pass--believe all hope is lost and that there would no point in opposing Voldemort with the only one who could defeat him, already gone.  

"These have been my reasons for the choices I have made.  Your decisions must be made upon your own reasons.  As it is, I understand, myself, being your only outlet for counsel and discussion on the prophecy may not be ideal to you."  Dumbledore held up his palm as Harry began with an in take of breath, "I would completely understand if you chose to share this knowledge with those close to you; you should not attempt to bear such a weight upon your mind nor shoulders without help.  You do seem to have a tendency to keep your own counsel, Harry and I feel you would probably benefit by relying more on others and sharing your thoughts--fears, concerns…hopes.  I am here for you--whatever you may need."  Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry's shoulder at this time, "I believe for us to be successful, you and I shall need to work together.  Create a more open dialogue.  You are far too involved--the center of it all, I daresay--to not be included in the business of the Order.  And I hope you will come to find that I might offer you more than just information, but also the wisdom that comes with age and experience.  Together we can do this and together, I believe, we will succeed."  Harry had never quite see Dumbledore's blue eyes burn so intensely as he was now looking at Harry.  The fleeting thoughts he had previously of perhaps living up to the high expectations of the prophecy and Dumbledore were now blossoming in his chest and he could feel a fire of his being kindled and reflected in his own green eyes.  Dumbledore then reached one hand towards him in the gesture of a handshake, "Together then?"  Harry's throat could not have let a word out of his mouth but he gave his answer by reaching to grasp the proffered hand.  Harry soon found himself with his cheek pressed against a silk robe and white beard and Dumbledore's other arm had came around fully to pull Harry in for an embrace from a Headmaster who had just shared the burden of the world with a barely sixteen year old boy.  

Author's Note:  Wow-- this took a while to be written out clearly and details verified by my ever-loving beta and myself.  We think this does indeed stand to be supported by cannon, to date.  Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed--your comments, criticisms and compliments are all appreciated.  


	3. Chapter 6 Who are you are what have you...

Disclaimer:  I do not own Harry, oh how I wish I did and I could have my way with him and so many other ickle characters.  Alas, I am poor and pathetically obsessed with the world of Harry Potter so I only can write about him.  

_Note to reviewer _**_He Who Hunts_**_: __  I have no problem explaining my interpretations of canon here. We know that Dumbledore could not have been in any way involved in the casting of the Fidelius charm that the Potters used because if he had been, he would have known that Sirius was not the Secret Keeper and would not have given testimony that he had been.  As to Dumbledore being the founder of the Order, we only have Hermione's word as hearsay on that.  At the time the kids were being told nothing and had to overhear anything they knew and I still think it is possible that Dumbledore may have brought together the Order when Voldemort first arose to power and been regarded as the founder, but I think it is plausible that the Order has much more ancient roots.  Besides, this will be a foundation of my main plot. Thanks for the review!___

Chapter 6. Who are you and what have you done to my aunt?

            Harry laid down the book, _Defensive Magic to Avoid Death_ and pushed his glasses up onto his forehead in order to rub his eyes.  It was nearly one o'clock in the morning and Harry had been lying on his stomach on his bed reading since after dinner.  Dinner had recently become one of the better meals at Number Four as Uncle Vernon had taken to grumbling in the mornings about working with incompetent morons and that since he was the only one who knew what he was doing at Grunnings, he would be needing to stay late at work.  Harry found this quite all right with him as the absence of his uncle seemed directly related to the amount of tension felt in the Dursley residence.  

            Aunt Petunia was back to her usual horsey self with Vernon gone and seemed to want to convince her Dinky-Duddydums to spend more time at home with her and to persuade him that he would look so much nicer if he would just let her take him shopping.  Dudley had somehow accomplished the enormous feat of locating clothes that were actually baggy on him and seemed to think that the baggier--the better.  Harry severely hoped he would not ever have to resort to these current small circus tents for his own attire.  Dudley, however, seemed well entrenched in his teenage rebellion stage and exercised his new found abilities of independent thought by choosing to ignore his parents completely.  Harry found this rather amusing as ignoring his Aunt and Uncle had long been his own favorite coping strategy.  Tonight, Aunt Petunia had become so desperate for something to mother that she actual looked at Harry and stated that he very surely needed a haircut.  Harry immediately resented Dudley for doing the only useful thing he had ever done-- divert scrutiny away from Harry.  The subject was quickly dropped however, when Aunt Petunia inquired when the last time Harry had his haircut and he answered, "You ought to know as you took me; I must have been about ten."

            Harry thought he should probably turn in for the night as he was expected around ten o'clock at Mrs. Figg's.  When Harry and Professor Dumbledore were concluding their visit two days ago, Dumbledore, Lupin, and Mrs. Figg had arranged a schedule of varying times for which Harry was expected at Mrs. Figg's.  Harry was told he might encounter other members of the Order visiting at these times as well.  Just today, Mad-Eye Moody had showed up before Harry was about to leave to inform him that Moody would meet him on Saturday to instruct Harry with basic wand care and use.  As it was "something every lad should know and few do" and also because actually doing magic would not be necessary.  Harry thought this all sounded quite dull and boring and was not eager to be forced to endure tales of wizards who lost their buttocks all while trying not to get motion sickness from that magical, whizzing eye.  

            The next day, Harry was awakened early in the morning by his aunt for the first time all summer with a sharp rapping on the door, "Up!  I have plans for us today!"  Harry had to pinch himself twice to make sure he was in the right room and that he wasn't dreaming.  He even briefly wondered whether it was a vision sent to him by Voldemort to confuse him or make him think he was going mad.  

            "I'm up," Harry groaned as he struggled out of bed and to the door blearily rubbing his eyes.  "What do you mean by 'plans'?" 

            Aunt Petunia was standing there in the hallway looking rather calculating with her arms crossed, "I mean that I have a proposition for you."  Her eyes had narrowed and Harry suspected his had as well as he was quite certain this definitely must be some concoction of Voldemort's--torture by having to associate with his relatives.  "_You_ will _agree_ to get a haircut--and I mean _agree_-- not making it grow back a or anything like that.  You _agree_ to let them make your hair look like it is not a rat nest-- and I--I will take you shopping."  

            _Definitely a dream_.  Harry turned around and was proceeding to go back to sleep, figuring this was indeed not reality.  

            "Where are you going?  Do you agree??"  Aunt Petunia had taken a few steps into the room, sniffed and scrunched up her nose at seeing _Defensive Magic to Avoid Death _lying upside down on the floor next to the bed and went on after Harry had put on his glasses, "You could use some newer clothes, couldn't you?"

            "Who are you?"  Harry could not quite believe that this was his aunt. Nope.  

            "Listen--" she dropped all pretense, "I am sick to death of my Dudley looking more like a hooligan than even you and there is only one sure way to get him to want to go shopping with me so I can get him properly outfitted."  Her head was held up high as if she were quite proud of her cleverness,  "You know very well, that if he sees you've got new things, then he will want some as well."

Harry thought she just might have been sorted into Slytherin if she were a witch.  "You're going to get me clothes.  New things?  That fit me?"  She nodded sharply.  "And all I have to do get my hair cut."  This still sounded quite odd and perhaps his mind was still partially asleep but he was beginning to think he might just be catching a break here!  

"Not just a haircut--you must _agree_-- will you?" Harry could not believe her eyes could be so narrowed and still allow her to see.

"I can't help what--"

"Don't be ridiculous!  My sister used to complain that she would try to tame that same hair on your father and he made it grow back just to rile her!  I _know_ you do it on purpose!"  

Harry was again shocked by the very un-Petunia-like way this conversation was going.  _Mentioning my Mum and Dad!?  Could this be a Death Eater in disguise trying to lure me away?  This is just too…weird._  

"Well?!?"  She was tapping her foot and her eyes were wide open now.

"Fine."  Harry wasn't about to let an opportunity to see what this trip had in store.   

"Go eat breakfast; I'm not buying you lunch.  We leave in an hour."  She was halfway out the door and down the hall leaving Harry to realize he might just want to make sure to get some new boxer shorts as his had far too close a resemblance to those awful things he saw Snape wear.  _I think I need post-Occlumency therapy_, he thought as he made his way to a quick shower.  

They spent an hour at a walk-in barbershop where the girl cutting his hair kept cooing at what a lovely shade of green Harry's eyes were.  When she was finished Aunt Petunia walked around Harry in the chair and sniffed, "And it will stay that way?"  He nodded agreeably as he thought it actually did not look too bad and it sure seemed to make it less obvious how his hair would never lie flat.  Then there was two hours of being dragged around and dressed up by his aunt and a shop lady who had given him a strange look when she must have felt through his shirt what was his wand that had been stuck in his front pocket (He hated to think of the lecture Moody would give him for this storage location).  It was only after Harry had spent an additional two hours trailing doggedly behind his aunt as she had splurged on a spree for herself and they were finally driving home that he realized that is was the afternoon and he had completely missed his time to be at Mrs. Figg's.  

When they got home and Harry had dropped off his new things (all off the sale rack but they fit and hadn't ever had to stretch around Dudley) and made to head out the door to apologize to Mrs. Figg for missing their date his aunt stopped him, "Where are you going?"

"Er, Mrs. Figg's.  I was supposed to visit this morning but seeing as how--"

"No--I bought you those things so Dudley would see them and want me to take him shopping!  You stay here so he can see you when he gets home.  Now go up and change and then come back down here so he will see you!"

Harry really did not see the point in rushing as Dudley was rarely at home but he knew he should be grateful for what he had got out of the deal.  

His aunt was nearly ready to put dinner on the table, despite only her and Harry being home when the doorbell rang.  "Go get that."

Harry opened the door to see Lupin, Tonks (spiky black hair with fluorescent green tips), Mundungus Fletcher (_Do I smell firewhiskey?_) and the eldest Weasely--(dragon-hide boots, fang-earring and all) Bill.  "Er…hi?"  Nearly everyone at the door had narrowed their eyes and cocked their heads as they surveyed a not-quite-as-untidy-hair and new-clothes Harry.  

Tonks was the first to recover, "Been kidnapped lately there, Harry?  I see it looks like they at least took good care of you."

"Did you forget you were supposed meet this morning?"  Lupin questioned.

"Who is it?" Aunt Petunia called as she came through the kitchen door and Harry turned to look at her, "Dudders?  Is that--"

"Hello Petunia."  Harry's head snapped back as Lupin greeted his aunt and then whipped back again to Aunt Petunia as the bowl of roast potatoes crashed to the floor in her shock.  Harry heard Mundungus let out a moderate belch and then got a whiff that confirmed the man had indeed, recently imbibed some firewhiskey.

Lupin nudged slack-jawed Harry to the side so they could all stop standing on the front step and enter the house and Tonks stepped forward to wave her wand and the potatoes flew back into the bowl which then soared up to hover in front of a livid Aunt Petunia.  "What in the name of _decency_ are _you_ people doing here?!?!"  If Harry was still in any doubt that this person who had taken his shopping and been almost decent to him that day was indeed his aunt, he surely wasn't in doubt anymore.

Lupin acted like this was to be expected, "Harry, Mrs. Figg never saw you today.  You were nowhere in the neighborhood and the house has been empty nearly all day--"

"I'm sorry-- we were out-- I didn't know I'd be going anywhere--"  Stupid sinking feeling in his gut-- he had finally got to be treated like somewhat of an adult and then he messes it up.  "I…" he looked down unable look at all these people sent to check up on him,  "My aunt offered to take me into town shopping today--I didn't realize it would be for half the day--we left when I was half asleep…"

"I am _allowed_ to put clothes on his back, aren't I?!?  You can't expect me to have him hanging around looking like _FILTH!_  The neighbors talk enough as it is-- not that _you_ lot turning up here will help!"  Aunt Petunia was spitting into the still hovering bowl of roast potatoes as she spoke, "How did you know he missed meeting Mrs. Figg?  You!!  _You're watching the house?!?_ "

The door to the kitchen opened again, "Where is every--" Dudley dropped the drumstick he had up to his mouth as he saw a grouping of wizards and began to choke on his breath. 

"Dudders!! Stay in the kitchen!"  Petunia whipped around and pointed for him to leave.

"But--Dad--where's--"

"GO!! NOW!!"  She snapped back around to glare at the group assembled in the front hall and spoke in a snarling voice, "I was under the impression that as long as he wasn't _'mistreated'_, I wouldn't have to see any of you!"

"No!  It's my fault, Aunt Petunia -- I was supposed to check in this morning and I forgot all about it!"  Harry was hoping that he was not going to be expected to eat the spit-covered potatoes after this was all over.

Aunt Petunia turned to Harry and glared hard at him, "Get rid of them before your uncle comes home!" then grabbed the bowl of potatoes, turned on her heel and stormed back in to the kitchen.

"She's pleasant."  said Tonks conversationally.

Bill piped in, "No wonder you find the quiet calamity of the Burrow a relief."

Harry looked from face to face, "Sorry--I just.  She has never--_never_--offered to take me anywhere.  I was dumbstruck--I mean--" he gave a short laugh, "I never would have thought…I am sorry I forgot and made you all worry."  and finished looking contrite.

"It's alright, Harry." Tonks said brightly, "I was hoping for a chance to drop by and show them we meant what we said about checking up on you."

Lupin smiled at this and then asked, "So, how did you manage to get her to take you shopping?"

Harry relaxed and grinned at this, "Oh, she wanted to make Dudley jealous so he would spend more time with her.  And she used it to bribe me to get my hair cut.  Quite Slytherin-like, she is."

Mundungus snorted at this and Tonks commented, "Well, I think you look rather fetching." with a wink that made Mundungus and Bill snicker.

A smiling Lupin said, "Well, we wanted to give you one piece of good news: Dumbledore convinced Fudge to grant a temporary lift on the ban on underage magic for all students who have earned a passing O.W.L. score in the three magical courses.  Scores should be out next week and as long as you earned a passing score--which we aren't worried you did--in Charms, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts, you are free to do magic!"  Harry was grinning full out now. "So next week, you should expect to not just be visiting at Arabella's but training.  We'll work out a schedule of who will teach you what and when--"

Tonks broke in, "I'll be helping too!  I'm still on paid leave with the Ministry through next week--they were so gracious that I had been 'so on top of things' that I had been able to help with the Death Eaters who broke in that night and then when I got hurt--well, I've received hazard compensation and a promotion!" Harry's face had fell at hearing about that night. "But...I'm sure you don't want to hear…"

"Mum will be relieved to know you're being treated better here."  Bill recovered quickly, "She was in a right state when I had to call her on the Floo to say I wouldn't be home right away because you'd missed your check in visit.  Although, I think Ron was hoping that something might have happened that made it unsafe for you to remain here so you could join him at the Burrow."

"Yeah, I'm fine.  Really."  The thought of the Burrow and the usual rancor that reigned there was not someplace Harry felt he could handle just now.  

"Well, we should get moving then.  Tomorrow at four, right?"  Harry nodded to Lupin.  "I'll see you there tomorrow then.  Take care, Harry."

"Thank you, Professor."

"Remus--call me Remus.  I haven't been your professor for over two years."

"Yes, thank you all."

"Goodnight Harry!" called Bill.

"See ya 'round." slurred an unsteady Mundungus.

"Catch you later, Hot Stuff!" as Tonks threw Harry one last overly flirtatious wink.  She paused and leaned back through the doorway to whisper conspiratorially, "And make sure you don't go losing a buttock now, they make a charming little pair."

After staring dumbly at the closed door for a few moments, Harry decided this day just could not possibly get any stranger.  He went upstairs thinking it was still quite likely that he might be waking up to find it was all a dream.  


	4. Chapter 7 Wand Polishing 101

Chapter 7.  Wand Polishing 101

            Harry sat at his desk and reread the letter from Hermione.  He had written her back the day after he had his talk with Dumbledore and Hedwig had just returned with her reply late last night.

_Dear Harry, _

_            Don't you dare think you are to blame.  I am doing fine and the fact that I was hurt was my own fault as I should have stunned the guy instead of silencing him.  My fault-- not yours.  I am not going anywhere and I will not be feeling like I never want to see you again.  You are my best friend-- that's right--best.  (Don't you dare tell Ron, but it is true.)  You are not bad luck and I will not accept your apology because there is nothing to apologize for. We stick together because that's what friends do.  _

_            You are welcome for the news.  I was pleased that most all of it was good news to pass along.  You are also welcome for the journal.  I was hoping you might use it at least to vent so that if things go like they did last summer, you will not have to keep it all pent up until you see Ron and myself.  I understand though, how you felt; just being home now for barely over a week makes me feel so isolated.  _

_            I am glad that you say you are having a better time this summer.  When do you think we will get our O.W.L. scores?  They said some time in July and it is the 9th today.  I hope we do not have to wait until the end of the month--I think I might go insane!  I know, I know, you think I am mad and maybe you could care less right now how you did but it is important.  Well, maybe not so much as other things but they do reflect five years of work and will determine the classes we can take next year and shape our futures.   _

_            I hope to see you soon and I really do hope you can stop blaming yourself._

_                                                                                                            With Love From, _

_                                                                                                            Hermione_

            Harry had written thanking her for keeping him informed with news and had asked how she had been doing since she had spent most of the last week at Hogwarts recovering in the hospital wing.  He then proceeded to apologize for not listening to her that night about his vision possibly being a trap and for dragging her along into the trap and for causing her to be injured.   He had said he would understand if she never wanted to see him again.  He also thanked her for the journal but that at the moment his thoughts weren't quite clear enough to be made into complete sentences.  

            He was still a little surprised that she had admitted that O.W.L. scores were not the most important things in the world but he figured that trying to take on nearly a dozen Death Eaters who had no moral dilemma in killing students would change the way anyone looked at their priorities.  After rummaging for a new nib for his quill in his trunk, he dipped it in ink and began to write.

_Hermione, _

_            I am glad you accept my apology.  Whether you say it or not, I take it as such.  I know this may sound morbid but it sometimes helps to believe that things could be worse and to think of what else could have gone wrong that night but didn't and losing you is one thing that was a rather close call.  I am glad you are recovering.  _

            He really could not imagine if she or Ron or anyone that had went with him to the Department of Mysteries had decided they never wanted to see or be near Harry again after what had happened.  He could understand it, but right now, he would never be able to pull himself out of the guilt he felt for losing Sirius if someone else were to blame him for what had happened.  

_            Things are very calm here--it helps that my uncle has taken to working 14 hours a day and on weekends, too.  I think he is avoiding being here with me.  It makes for a nice improvement.  I get to visit with different friends now during tea with my neighbor.  _

            Harry knew she would know this was Mrs. Figg who was a member of the Order.  He had just found out that afternoon when Tonks and Lupin had shown up to see Harry at tea time that Hermione would be moving to Grimmauld Place this next weekend as her parents were set to leave for some undisclosed destination.  Lupin was currently the only one staying full time at the Order headquarters.

_            I happen to know that O.W.L. scores should be arriving next week and that there should be a bit of a surprise in there.  You might want to cast a silencing charm as soon as you open the letter so you don't disturb too many people when you read it.  You never told me--what did you decide on for your career choice?_

            Harry knew Hermione would be nearly as excited to get her scores as to find out that they would then be able to perform magic outside of school.  

_            Well, I need to dash to shower and get ready.  I am expected for a visit in less than an hour.  Wish your parents good luck and see you soon._

_                                                                                                            Harry_

            He finished the letter, rolled it  and tied it up and set on his desk, as Hedwig was still asleep.  He would send her out with it later when he got back from Mrs. Figg's.   

            The next day Harry showed up at Mrs. Figg's with some trepidation, as this was the day that Mad-Eye Moody was supposed to instruct Harry on the basics of wand use, care, and such.  Harry had gone over _A Wizard and his Wand_ the previous two nights so he wouldn't be completely clueless.  He had found out several interesting things about wands:  such as a wand might last for anywhere from a few years to a century depending upon the user and his or her need for the strengths that the wand offered.  Harry had recalled that Ron had started school using Charlie's old wand and found out that this was likely because a wand with a core of dragon heartstring is needed to effectively cast any spells on a dragon.  He also read about the rare effects of brother wands meeting and being forced to duel.  The book cited that most known cases of this occurred when identical twins, who would often be chosen by brother wands, were trying to curse each other in a sibling spat.  Harry wondered if perhaps Fred and George had brother wands and that this was why they spent so much time making jokes to prank each other and others.  

            Moody and Harry were seated across from each other at the dinning table and Harry felt as if he was being tested and interrogated and not at all there for a relaxing time of tea.  Indeed there was no tea in sight--not that it bothered Moody; his motto was 'have hip flask, will travel'.  "Alright now boy, when was the last time you polished your wand?"  

            "Er…"  Harr could not help the blush and had to screw up his face to fight down a fit of laughter as he knew all too well that Fred and George considered "polishing their wands" to be a fine endeavor best practiced at least once a day.  

            "A wand needs to be taken care of!  You can't expect it to always be in perfect condition if you don't take good care of it and prepare it for use!  Now, let's see it…" Harry had purposely worn a long sleeve t-shirt in which he was able to conceal his wand in the sleeve (he knew all to well what Moody thought of using trouser pockets) and now took out his wand and handed it to Moody. 

            "What are you, _mad_?!  You just gonna give your wand to anyone who asks?!?!  First lesson--NEVER GIVE UP YOUR WAND!!"  

            Harry thought this was quite unfair as it was Moody asking for the wand and of course he wouldn't give up his wand on purpose; the problem seemed more to be when his wand was forcibly taken.  "What if I am disarmed or someone does take it?"

            "Then you get it back!  Dumbledore told me how your wand is particularly useful against You-Know-Who so you keeping it on your body is even more important.  But even the best wizard might be disarmed or knocked out and lose his wand…best if you avoid that altogether."  

            _Oh, that clears that up._  "Constant vigilance--got it."

            "_CONSTANT VIGILANCE!!_  It is not just a phrase--it is a WAY OF LIFE!!  And if you want a life to live, then you'd do well to adopt it!"

            This went on for nearly three hours and Harry had never been more happy to see Mrs. Figg than when she arrived back from her errands to express surprise that Mad-Eye and Harry were still there.  Moody had said it taken longer than he expected because the boy had 'barely an ounce of wand wit' and had never even been properly instructed on the intricacies of wand polishing.  Harry couldn't help but hear a comedic routine in his head quipping on every possible double entendre in voices that sounded an awful lot like Fred and George.

            The most helpful thing Moody had done was to give Harry a wand holster that could be used to strap on his wand in a variety of locations: his calf, his forearm, over his shoulder, on his upper arm, or on his back of his neck along his spine.  The leather holster had attachments for the different locations and was charmed to adjust as needed.  Moody said Aurors or wizards who lived around muggles who were not often wearing robes primarily used them.  Moody had also suggested that Harry practice drawing his wand from various locations and that if he got really good he would nearly be able to summon his wand to his hand with the help of some minor wandless magic which Moody said would be undetectable.  He explained that the Ministry was only able to detect underage magic by monitoring for the casting of known spells and therefore unnamed or wandless spells rarely set off the underage detectors.  

            Over the next few days Harry was still trying to not feel like he was swimming with a weight tied to him when he thought of Sirius and Harry was still not quite able to get his head around what the prophecy meant to him and what passed for his life.  Harry was often pondering what people would think if they knew the entire thing and how they might treat him after they knew.  He thought that Hermione would probably be shocked at first, question it and the reliability of any kind of divination, then accept it and analyze every angle of it and research everything to do with prophesies and Dark Lords.  Ron would probably stare open-mouthed for a few minutes and then say, "That sucks, mate."  and then comment that he hoped this would not prevent Harry from playing quidditch.  Mrs. Weasley would probably sob and try to stuff Harry away in a cupboard to make sure he remained safe for the rest of his life.  Lupin would--well, Lupin would probably treat him mostly the same.  Harry liked having tea and chats with Lupin as he had a very even manner about him that was neither excitable nor depressing.  Lupin always seemed to take everything in stride and the long stretches of silence that Harry suffered upon anyone who visited with him never seemed to much bother Lupin, which made Harry feel quite at ease around him.  Sirius--if Sirius were around to hear the prophecy, well, perhaps he might just think it was rather exciting.  The previous summer when Sirius had heard that Harry had to fight off dementors, he had been jealous because at least Harry got to do something.  _If it were Sirius in the prophecy, he would stand up and meet it and he wouldn't think twice about it._  Yes, Sirius would most definitely grab this bull by the horns and make it dance.  _And so would my father_.  

            And that was the thought that propelled Harry to read and study the books that Dumbledore had lent him with an intensive fervor to rival Hermione's.  He was engrossed in a chapter on the use of Switching Spells as active defense in the book _Dueling with Wizards Who Play Dirty_ when the arrival of an unknown owl flew in through his window bearing an envelope with a Ministry seal.  "What?!?  I wasn't doing magic!  Did I accidentally say an incantation out loud and trip their detectors?"  But when Harry unrolled the parchment he sat down immediately and scanned the sheet, "O.W.L. scores!!!"

**_Ordinary Wizarding Level Examination Results_****_ for:_**

**_POTTER, Harry James_****__**

_Released by Griselda Marchbanks, _

_Department Head of Wizarding Examinations Authority, _

_Ministry of Magic_

_The following scale is used to score examination results and determine passing grades.:_

_Passing Scores_

_O = Outstanding_

_E = Exceeds Expectations_

_A = Acceptable_

_Failing Scores_

_P = Poor_

_D = Dreadful_

_T = Terrible_

_Minimum course score requirements for acceptance into N.E.W.T. preparatory courses at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are listed on the course sign-up forms provided by Hogwarts.  The abbreviation "NA" stands for "Not Attempted".  Questions, concerns or contestations of earned scores shall be directed to the Ministry Office of Wizarding Examinations Authority.  _

**_Course_**

**_sCORE_**

****

**_Charms_**

__

_Theory_

_O_

_Practical _

_E_

_Overall _

**_E_**

****

**_Transfiguration_**

__

_Theory_

_E_

_Practical _

_O_

_Overall _

**_O_**

****

**_Herbology_**

__

_Theory_

_E_

_Practical _

_E_

_Overall _

**_E_**

****

**_Defense Against the Dark Arts_**

__

_Theory_

_O_

_Practical _

_O_

_Overall _

**_O_**

****

**_Potions_**

__

_Theory_

_E_

_Practical _

_O_

_Overall _

**_O_**

****

**_Care of Magical Creatures_**

__

_Theory_

_O_

_Practical _

_O_

_Overall _

**_O_**

****

**_Astronomy_**

__

_Theory_

_E_

_Practical _

_P_

_Overall _

**_A_**

****

**_History of Magic_**

__

_Theory Only--Overall_

**_P_**

****

**_Ancient Runes_**

__

_Practical Only--Overall_

_NA_

****

**_Divination_**

__

_Practical Only--Overall_

**_P_**

****

**_Arithmancy_**

__

_Practical Only--Overall_

_NA_

****

**_Muggle Studies_**

__

_Practical Only--Overall****_

_NA_

            "I can't believe it……_Potions!!!!"  _Harry had to reread the parchment several times before it had finally sunk in that he had aced the majority of his exams-- with a few expected exceptions that did not bother him at all.  "It will be worth spending another two years with Snape just to annoy the bloody git!"  said Harry shaking his head in amazement.  

            He was just thinking this was turning out to be an incredible day when it got even better as he looked at the second piece of parchment behind his results:

WIZARDING EXAMINATIONS AUTHORITY DECREE NUMBER 12 

**All underage students passing Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations in each of Transfiguration, Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts course are hereby granted temporary licensure to perform magic outside of school.  All students are expected to adhere to the Ministry Guidelines for the Proper Use of Magic.  Abuse of this privilege will result in loss of said privilege and may be cause for expulsion.  **

**_Signed_****_: _****_Griselda Marchbanks, Department Head of Wizarding Examinations Authority, Ministry of Magic and Cornelius O. Fudge, Minister of Magic_**__


	5. Chapter 8 Plans To Do Something

Author's note:  Some have asked and I can tell you very surly right now that this will NOT be Harry/Tonks.  Nope.  Not a ship I sail.    Tonks, I see as someone who is old enough to know Harry is still pretty naïve about flirting and girls but young enough to get away with teasing him and goading him.    My greater philosophy on Harry-shipping is that Harry is not someone who opens himself up very easily to other people.  It has taken him a long time to become as trusting and as open as he is (and that's not all that much) with the good friends he has--Ron and Hermione.  He has way too much crap in his life to simply be able to learn how to have a relationship with a completely new person who knows nothing of his baggage.  Before Harry can find true, romantic love (if ever) he will have to first know what it isn't and what other kinds of love he already has.  As you can see in my story summary, this fic will begin and be mostly H/Hr.   You will see them begin to blur the lines of platonic friendship love, simple boy/girl teenage lust and real attraction as a diversion to the other crap that fills their minds.  At this point, I kind of doubt they will be madly in love and planning names for children--but that's mostly because I just do not see either of them as those types of people.  This is a story about a 16-year-old teenage boy; not many of them know what love really is and are much more likely to just follow their hormones and perhaps stumble upon love, if at all.   I digress…on with the fic!!

Chapter 8.  Plans to Do Something 

          Harry could not recall being so happy since before the third task of the Triwizard Tournament.  Even thoughts of Sirius couldn't deflate his mood.  Harry knew that if Sirius were here to know the marks his Godson had earned, that Sirius would be ecstatic with glee.  The evening after Harry had received his marks and after he had finally calmed down (he had given in and cast a silencing charm in his room so he could shout for joy at the top of his lungs at least once), he had written Hermione to tell her the good news and to ask how she had done.  He knew Hermione would be thrilled with his success and would be eager to share her own results.  Harry had then began a letter to Ron but then wondered if Ron would think he was bragging and then rationalized that since Hedwig was already away with his letter to Hermione, that he could write Ron later.  The following morning, Harry's good mood had not dissipated any as he made his way down to the breakfast table.  

            "This is an OUTRAGE!!!  A _cook_?!  A _security guard_?!?  _A BUS DRIVER_?!?!"  Harry could immediately see that Uncle Vernon was back to his old charming, cheerful self as he spat across the food on the table while holding an open piece of post in his sausage-fingered hand.  "No boy of mine is going to _drive a bus!!!_  Now see here, these standardized testy thingys are _biased_ against a creative young mind like my boy...they've been saying it for years!!!"  

            Dudley was staring open-mouthed in shock at absolutely nothing and most notably, was not eating despite there being a spread of food before him.  

            Harry thought it was quite obvious that Dudley had just received the results of his own Ordinary Level exams.   Harry also silently agreed with his uncle that there is no way Dudley should be a bus driver; no way a boy like Dudley should be let to interact with the common public.  Harry grabbed a piece of toast then headed quickly out the door to avoid being blamed for Dudley being the intellectual equivalent of a flobberworm.  

            Harry arrived later that day at Mrs. Figg's house around noon to find no one home and a note on the hall mirror telling Harry to make himself at home at wait as Mrs. Figg would be returning shortly.  He was just staring out the window into the back garden when he was startled by the sound of a Floo, a _'thwump!'_ and a squeal as he was attacked by the squealing blur with an awful lot of bushy hair.  

            "Harry!!  Did you get them?  Oh! Of course you got them--Hedwig just gave me your note this morning!! Guess how I did??  I passed everything!! I got all Outstanding's except for the Astronomy practical--_oh!_--but I plan to write a contestation on the fact that there were considerable disrupt--"

            "Ms. Granger, you might want to let him breath!"  As a beaming and slightly flushed Hermione finally let go of Harry, he noticed that Professor McGonagall and Lupin had also arrived and were watching the two of them with slight amusement.  

            "I take it you did well on O.W.L.s then, Hermione?"  Harry was also rather amused at her exuberance.  

            She was beaming, "Yes.  But so did you!  Oh, Harry, I am so proud of you!" She just could not help but bring him into another hug, this one with a kiss on the cheek, "I knew you could do it if you applied yourself!" 

            "Yes, Mr. Potter, I was also quite pleased with your performance.  It may sound redundant now, but I also knew you had it in you."  Professor McGonagall had stepped forward and given Harry a firm handshake in congratulations.

            Lupin stepped forward next to grasp Harry's hand, "Hermione showed me your letter; well done, Harry."  He pulled him closer for a manly one-armed hug and went on, "I know that your parents and Sirius would be very proud."

            Harry surprised everyone by smiling at this and saying, "I know."

            Lupin smiled back and went on, "I daresay if your father or Sirius were here they would be announcing your scores from the roof with a _sonorous_ charm and throwing a bash.

            "Why, I remember when we received our own O.W.L. marks that James and Sirius threw a _tremendous bash_.  Your grandparents had taken an ill-timed trip out of town and left those two home alone and they proceeded to invite over nearly all of Gryffindor and even several students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw houses that were in our year.  

            "A few hours in and several pints of ale and firewhiskey later, we had to drag your father out of the Floo because he was determined to invite your mother over.  If we told him once, we told him a dozen times that muggleborns would not be on the Floo network."  Lupin shook his head as he reminisced.

            McGonagall's lips were in a straight line and her eyes narrowed, "Yes, I seem to recall a party in Gryffindor Tower at the end of your fifth year to celebrate the end of O.W.L.'s and then yet another one at the beginning of your sixth years to--what was the excuse?  Ah yes, 'to celebrate the fact that it isn't fifth year'!"  Her eyes sparkled with a fondness that belied her admonishing tone.

            "Yes, well, it was all their ideas…" Lupin gave a wry smile and winked at Harry as he settled himself in a chair by the window.

            "Mmmm…I'm sure.  Well, to business now.  Mr. Potter, Professor Dumbledore has already informed you, I believe, that it is his wish that this summer you receive training in defensive magic and, I believe he termed it, 'Life Preservation Skills'?"  Harry nodded as he settled himself on the sofa next to Hermione.  "Well, I have volunteered myself to help with this and to arrange a schedule for you for the remainder of the summer.  Several members of the Order have volunteered their personal time to help you and I trust you will appreciate the sacrifices they have made and will dedicate yourself to learning all that you can?"  

            "Absolutely, Professor."  Harry had been dying to try out many of the new curses and spells he had been reading about and was eager to begin _doing something_ that would prevent him from sitting around and just wishing he could do be doing something.  "There is just one thing, where can we go to do this?"  The Dursleys would never allow anything in their home and Harry just couldn't see practicing blasting curses in Mrs. Figg's muggle home where anyone could peer through the window.  

            "Well, I am pleased to know you are aware that magic does not belong out amongst muggles.  However, we have made some _alterations_ to Arabella's potting shed out back that I think you'll find makes it quite a spacious and accommodating place."  Harry thought this likely meant that they had enlarged the interior space and reinforced the building to withstand any magic. "Now, I myself will be training you each Thursday from mid-morning to mid-afternoon.  Kingsley Shacklebolt will be able to dedicate his Friday afternoons to your training.  Alastor has agreed to work with you early each Saturday morning--and Potter, I warn you, he will check that you've polished your wand-- the man hasn't shut up about Hogwarts lacking in basic wand care instruction for the past week!  Nymphadora will be dedicating her day off-Tuesdays - once she returns to work next month, but in the mean time, will be working with Remus here to fill in the other days with you.  Oh yes, and Professor Dumbledore will meet with you each Sunday afternoon, himself.  Are there any questions?"  

She had handed Harry a schedule of whom he could expect to be with at what times and on which days.  Hermione was reading over Harry's shoulder and sounded disappointed as she said, "I've already asked if I could join you but it was just a coincidence that I was able to even visit you today.  I'll have to wait until you move to Headquarters until I can join in--at least to watch and learn."  

Harry knew from his earlier chat with Dumbledore that Harry was only required to remain at Number Four for four consecutive weeks to qualify as 'his home'.  "So, do we know when I will be moving specifically and will this schedule change then?"  Harry had figured he would technically be able to leave the last week in July and was eager to leave the Dursleys--even if the alternative was dreary old Grimmauld Place.  

Lupin answered, "I think Albus wants to work that out with you himself.  You should be seeing him this Sunday for your scheduled training."  Harry felt a surge of independence at the idea that he was finally at least being consulted in decisions affecting his life.  Lupin continued, "We hadn't hoped that the Ministry would lift the underage magic ban so quickly.  We had thought we would only be doing training after you were moved but when we got news, Albus insisted there was no time to waste."  

Hermione added, "Don't worry about going back to Headquarters.  It is loads better than last summer or even since you've last seen it at Christmas." She gave a slight smile and her eyes sparkled as she said, "I think you'll be quite surprised."

Wondering which, of the many possible improvements that could be made, had occurred, Harry narrowed his eyes and asked, "Is Kreacher still there?"

Hermione got a furious look on her face and Harry thought she just might have finally found a house-elf she for which she could not feel sorry.  "Oh those _BARBARIANS_!"

Lupin was the one who explained, "It seems that when Kreacher went to Bellatrix or Narcissa or whomever he was serving, that he had requested that his 'punishment' for betraying Sirius would be his own death--that he might be _properly beheaded_ as his ancestors before him."  Harry had tensed at the name 'Bellatrix' but was thinking that it was quite all right with him that Kreacher was dead and gone as it saved him from having to restrain himself from strangling the wretched creature.  He decided to change the subject and turned to Hermione, "So how was it you managed to get to visit this stunning town of Little Whinging?"

Hermione was beaming even more that she had earlier, if it was possible, but Lupin cut in before she could answer, "She was driving me crazy going on and on about her marks and how she was so happy about yours that I thought someone else should have to suffer to listen to her."

"Oh poo!  You only take Owls once in your life--"

"Unless you fail too many--" 

"Argh!!!" not to be distracted she was, "No-Harry, you won't believe what else both you and I get to learn!!!"  Harry thought that Hermione just might explode if she didn't get to tell him her news.  "Apparition!!  Oh, isn't it wonderful?!"  McGonagall and Lupin were both watching amusedly as Hermione was not about to let anyone else tell Harry this news, "See, I got to go the Ministry today apply for my training license since I'll be 17 in nearly two months, and when we got there, Emmeline Vance came over and gave us a training license for you as well!!  Isn't it great!  She said that Dumbledore had applied for it for you acting as your legal guardian.  She said that they both had to pull a lot of strings but that you were allowed an early license since you were a special case!  We get to train together!!  It's one of the things that Tonks and Professor Lupin will be working on with us--isn't it great?"  Harry watched as Hermione had went on with her explanation and cold not believe that one person could be so excited about learning one single thing.  Her eyes were shinning with joy and anticipation and she was nearly quivering with excitement.  Then it sunk in-- _I get to learn apparition!!_

"Wow…really?"  He looked at Lupin to make sure Hermione had not been making it all up.

Lupin was smiling at the two of them, "Yes.  As long as Hermione stops calling me 'Professor'."

She laughed at him, "But you are teaching us now again, aren't you?  Speaking of teaching, is there any word yet on who will take on the Defense Against the Dark Arts post this year?"  She looked warily, as did Harry, as Lupin and McGonagall frowned.  The position had a reputation as bad as Hagrid's rock cakes.  

McGonagall sniffed as she said, "The Headmaster seems to have someone in mind who might be interested--which is half the battle at this point.  But I daresay you will be beyond N.E.W.T level by the end of the summer.  The class may be a bit slow for your tastes depending upon who is brought in."  Harry could easily see that someone with the talent of Umbridge or Lockhart would be good reason to continue with his own DA lessons, if the need arose.  "Speaking of classes, Potter, I brought a N.E.W.T. Preparatory Course Sign-Up form for you to complete.  Have you made your decisions?"

Harry had of course went over it the night before and so easily marked his advanced course selections,  "Transfiguration, Charms, Potions--Ha!, Defense, and…do you have a suggestion for the fifth course?  I was thinking about Care of Magical Creatures…?"

Hermione gasped and whispered, "Harry!  Who knows what you might have to work with in Hagrid's advanced class…" She looked downright fearful.

"Exactly, Hermione.  So if _we_ don't sign up for it, who will?"  He gave her a hard look that clearly said he expected her to show up for the class as well.  

"Oh why not Herbology or Astronomy-- you qualify for both of those-- or look!! Divination-- there is no minimum requirement for Divination-- you could do that?"  She was quite clearly grasping at straws if she was desperate enough to suggest Divination as a course.  Harry gave her a look that conveyed he was in no way buying it.  She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms and pouted, "Oh fine."

McGonagall surmised as she finished marking on Harry's form, "So two for Hagrid's class?  I'll add it to your list Ms. Granger."  She looked at Harry and then leaned towards him, "Completely off the record of course," she had her mouth quirked in a half smile and went on, "I can't wait to see Professor Snape's reaction to seeing you on his attendance list.  He was sure you would not qualify."  She had a full out self-satisfied smirk on her face now, "But I warned him…that if he insisted on pushing my Gryffindors so hard and giving out such advanced work and always holding them to such high standards that he just might ensure they join him for an additional two years."  She smiled broadly, "It seems that with two of his _favorites_ in one class-- yourself and Mr. Longbottom--that he produced for the first time since he began, _an entire class of Gryffindors who passed their Potions O.WL.!_  Oh, he will be sooo pleased!"  She was sighing and grinning like mad.  Harry thought she looked rather frightening like this and could only imagine that Snape would be beyond frightening if both he and Neville showed up for the advanced Potions course.  But he doubted that Neville would have earned an Outstanding and would volunteer for the class.  _Smart man_.  

As McGonagall, Lupin and Hermione prepared to leave through the fireplace, Harry asked, "So, has Mrs. Figg always been on the Floo network?"

Lupin answered, "No, Arthur was able to pull some strings through a friend in the Floo Regulation Panel to get her discreetly hooked up.  If you needed, you could call or get to Hogwarts--Dumbledore's office is open to you--if there was an emergency, of course.  Grimmauld place is calls only--no entry.  We Floo'd here from The Leaky Cauldron after leaving the Ministry. We'll be going back that way.  See you soon and take care, Harry."  He gave Harry a squeeze on his shoulder, as was their customary parting.

Hermione stopped as she recalled, "Oh yes, and I hoped you wouldn't mind-- I sent Hedwig on to Ron and gave him news of our scores and told him to write back and let us know how he did."  Hermione was smiling sadly, a little reluctant to leave Harry all alone again but gave Harry a warm embrace and impishly whispered into his ear, "And I almost forgot, I like your new haircut."  before she followed Lupin into the fire.  

Professor McGonagall had finally recovered from her evil-grinning fit and gave Harry a last firm handshake and promised to see him next week Thursday at ten o'clock sharp and reminded him to be ready for Shacklebolt tomorrow and then Moody on Saturday, "And don't forget to polish your wand!" With that, she was gone in a roar of green flames.  

As Harry walked back to Privet Drive, remembering the feel of Hermione's breath in his ear, he was grateful for being able to do magic and thus being able to cast a silencing spell as he thought, "I just might have to polish my wand, indeed."

A/N: I admit it-- I am way too amused with my coined phrases about "polishing the wand" but hey-- he is nearly 16-- this is what boys this age do, isn't it?!?!?  


	6. Chapter 9 We'll Make a Man out of You, ...

Author's Note to **Isy Okolo** on Apparition Licensing:  My idea of Apparition is like driving in the US.  A few months before you turn the legal age to do it, you are allowed a learner's permit that allows you to train and to do the thing with adequate supervision.  Hermione, in my universe, will be 17 this September and so is two months away from being of age.  In this universe, two months is the time granted prior to turning of age when one can apply for a learner's permit.  Dumbledore, acting on Harry's behalf, has thrown around his own weight and Harry's to get special permission, seeing as how Harry has had to come face to face with Lord Thingy twice since his rebirth, for Harry to be able to learn Apparition now. What better way to escape capture, than to just disappear? 

Also, FF.net is having issues with getting italics to show up in this chapter.  Please bear with me.

Chapter 9.  We'll Make a Man out of You, Yet

            Over the next few days Harry was floored as he received more than a half-dozen never-before-seen owls.  They arrived flying into his room, in through the kitchen, out in the backyard, out on the sidewalk as he walked on his way to Mrs. Figg's house--all delivering him letters from different schoolmates telling Harry how wonderful they did on their recent Defense Against the Dark Arts exams.  Angelina, Alicia and Katie, each wrote to say that they had aced their Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests in Defense and that they owed it all to Harry.  Neville Longbottom was one of the first to write and thanked Harry for helping him master more spells that he had in five years.  He also wrote that his Gran was very proud of his involvement in the fight that resulted in the capture of the Lestrange brothers: two of the ones responsible for incapacitating Neville's parents.  Neville also wrote that Ginny had explained in the hospital wing later back at Hogwarts that Sirius Black was innocent and that he had been Harry's Godfather.  Neville apologized for Harry's loss and told Harry, quite formally, that he would be honored to attend a Life Celebration for Sirius whenever it was to be held.  Harry was amazed that Neville would trust his and Ginny's story of Sirius' innocence so completely without question.   The most shocking thing Neville had written was to say that his marks had shown an "O" in Potions.  He said he had written the Examination Authority to make sure it was not a mistake but that if it were true, then he would qualify to take the NEWT Preparatory Potions course.  Neville said he would not want to take it if there were no other Gryffindors in it; he had asked if Hermione had signed up for it.

            Dean had written to say that he had done well in most of his classes and that his only "O" had been in DADA are thanked Harry.  Seamus wrote to say that after he had received an "O" in DADA and told his mum it was because of Harry's help, she had sobbed and told him to write and apologize to Harry for ever doubting him.  Ernie Macmillan had written to list each and every score he had received and to tell Harry that he had also earned an "O" in DADA.  Ernie also said he had written Hogwarts to lodge a complaint against Draco Malfoy for attempting to attack Harry on the train ride home.  He said he had written Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones urging them to lodge a complaint as well.  Harry thought, that with the letter Hermione had already written, that Malfoy might be handing in his Prefect Badge before next term.  

            On Friday, Harry had awoke early and went over to Mrs. Figg's to ask if he could use the shed to practice some before he had to work with the Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt.  Harry had found the potting shed was indeed, approximately ten times larger on the inside than what it appeared and that the walls felt slightly cushy if you pushed against them and the dirt floor felt springy if you jumped up and down.  There were some garden chairs, old pots, rakes, shovels and other miscellaneous items normally found in a potting shed stuffed in the corner of the now spacious room.  

Harry dragged out one of the rather worn looking chairs and set it in the middle of the room as he began to try out some of the new spells he had recently found and read about.  He began with a spell he had discovered that just might have been what his father had used on Snape in the scene in the penseive:  the Pick-Pocket Jinx.  He had found it in the Dark Arts Primer as a spell used to hang people upside down too empty out their pockets of Galleons.  

"Flippenspendus!"  It took several tries before he was successfully able to make the chair hover upside down in mid air.  

After that he had worked on conjuring magical ropes like he had seen Dumbledore do to the Death Eaters at the Ministry ("Incarcerous!")  and had used an empty pot to practice blasting curses repeatedly.  Mrs. Figg came out once to suggest Harry put up a silencing charm so no one would wonder what kept breaking.  She managed to drag him in for a short lunch, which Harry ate with gusto. Before heading back out, he asked for a candle and went to see if he could master a flame-freezing charm; he had really wanted to try out a flame-throwing curse but thought he ought to make sure he had mastered the freezing charm before he set anything on fire.  

When Kingsley arrived, he was very businesslike and suggested they begin with something to gauge at what level Harry was to and then determine what they needed to cover.  His only warning was, "Now try and stop me if you can." Before he sent a spell at Harry that was instinctively deflected and then countered with the first thing that came to Harry's mind: a double-vision jinx he had only read about which made Kingsley pause long enough for Harry to quickly shout, "Expelliarmus!"  

But before Harry could feel too victorious as he caught the wand, Kingsley was charging at him full speed and Harry could only yell a poorly aimed "Impedimenta!" as he was tackled with Kingsley's wand dropping to the ground.  Kingsley lunged away from Harry to retrieve his wand, which Harry managed to banish out of his grasp across the room and then turned and cast the Full Body Bind on Kingsley.  He then stood up, panting for breath, wondering if he should unbind him now.  

He hadn't yet recovered his breath when he saw Kingsley begin to stir and break the bind as he made to lunge this time at Harry in physical attack.  Harry tried out a blinding jinx, "Malvisum!" and quickly followed with "Stupefy!"  Then for good measure, Harry conjured the magical ropes he had been practicing earlier.  He summoned Kingsley's wand and then waited a few moments then revived the still-bound Kingsley.  He had to struggle for a moment before noticing the ropes and then concentrated and broke them. 

Harry had his wand raised and was about to curse him again when Kingsley laughed and held up his hands, "Alright, alright, you know a fair amount."  Harry breathed out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and handed over the wand.  "You did not expect me to break out of the Full Body Bind, did you?  Did you know it could be fought, same as a stunning spell?"  Harry shook his head.  He knew a person would come around eventually out the curses but was not aware they could be countered.  "It is a matter of preparing your mind for accepting the curses.  You shout out your spells and that makes it easy to prepare.  Did you know that, with practice, you'd be just as effective if you whispered or muttered your incantations?  Even if you can't voice them at all, you can still cast spells."  Kingsley was up and dusting himself off now.  

"They tend not to teach that at Hogwarts because they want to hear your casting to make sure you're doing it right.  That, and it's easiest to learn to focus your magic through voiced incantations.  

"The ropes were a nice touch, a little weak-- I would have expected them to be stronger what with the strength you were able to put into your stunning spell."

"I only just tried it for the first time this morning using the chair."  Harry gestured at the lonely chair over to the side.

Kingsley looked impressed at this.  "Well, then not so bad for the first time on a person.  You also did well to try to jinx my sense of sight.  It made it difficult to attack with a wand or to form a physical assault all while not knowing what else may be headed towards me.  Eyes are a weakness for everyone.  Look at old Moody-- he relies on his magical eye all the time, but a well chosen spell would sever him from his most trusted sense and leave him vulnerable-- and even more importantly, feeling vulnerable."  Kingsley was walking about the room now, prodding the softened walls and checking out the space.  

"That's a very huge advantage to make your opponent feel vulnerable.  If they think you already know their weakness, they are more likely to reveal it to you.  Now what's your weakness?"

Harry thought for a moment, "Well, I didn't know half the stuff you're saying just now and I was surprised…and acting on impulse more than…say…forming a plan of attack."  Harry hadn't chosen to purposefully attack the eyes, it was just the section he had recently read about and was what had come to mind.

"Ah, instinct is both a strength and a weakness.  Your instincts are spot on in that you first disarmed me, tried to slow me down when I made a rush, fought to prevent me from regaining my wand and then, finally made to subdue me.  That is the correct instinct--to capture.  Your instinct, however, should probably be to evade if you are being attacked.  But instinct can also be predictable and therefore, exploited.  Let's work on how you can overcome subduing and binding spells."

They worked on how Harry could prepare his mind to fight will himself out of a Body Bind.  This spell only petrified the body and not the mind so he found it a lot like Imperious only instead of being told to move to do something, it was like believing he couldn't move.  The same voice in his head quickly helped him to relax under the spell and remember that his body was controlled by his mind and then focused on willing his body to move.  Harry had managed to master this rather quickly and then Kingsley explained how, by comparing the willpower needed to overcome the spell, the strength of the person casting it could be gauged. 

 Overcoming stunning was a little more difficult as it numbed the mind as well as the body.  Kingsley explained the key was to prepare your mind to wake up as soon as it was stunned, like you might remind yourself you need to wake up early in the morning before you fall asleep.  He claimed, after waking up your mind, it would be easier to regain the use of your body than when fighting the Body Bind.  Harry was having trouble getting the hang of this one though and they moved on to explaining how preventing your opponent from hearing the incantations would prevent them from properly blocking, anticipating and countering spells.  

Kingsley told Harry to practice over the next week, lowering his incantation tone gradually to progress to only a whisper while still maintaining full power of spellcasting.  Harry went home exhausted and hungry and spent most of the night in his room trying to hover his pillow while softly speaking the incantation.  

The next morning, Harry had to skip breakfast and rush to make his meeting with Moody.  He paused outside the potting shed and bent over to gasp for breath.  He pulled his wand out to give a quick once-over and wiped it across his jeans on his thigh before taking a deep breath, straightening up and then opened the door and walked in.   

"Petrificus totalus!"  Harry felt his body go rigid as he keeled over forward and into the pitch-dark shed.  He panicked for a moment before remembering to relax and focus his mind on breaking through the bind.  

When he finally broke through, he immediately rolled over to the side to avoid the curse yelled from Moody's voice and Harry recalled what Kingsley had said about making Moody vulnerable if you took away his eye. "Accio eye!"  Harry growled as he pointed his wand in the direction of the voice and focused on summoning the magical eye from Moody's socket, wherever he was.  His seeker skills enabled him to glimpse the eye as a ray of light from the open doorway hit it moments before Harry reached out to snatch it.  

He held the eye barely a second before Harry was disarmed with his wand and the eye flying out of his hands as he sailed backwards into the wall.  Harry spent a few dazed moments appreciating that the walls were as cushy as a pillow before Moody filled the shed with light and stalked menacingly towards Harry.  "Argh!  Got your wand boy, didn't I!"  Harry briefly wondered if he was expected to rush at the peg-legged Moody and attack him as Kingsley had done to Harry the day before.  

Instead, Moody reached down to offer Harry a hand up and, after giving it a scrutinizing appraisal, handed Harry his wand back.  

"But, you did have your wand out and ready when you came in--even it was because you wanted to give it a quick polish."  Harry should have known that Moody would have seen him through the shed walls.  "And you managed to break free of the Full Body Bind and then go for my eye to even out the odds a bit." Moody, with an empty eye socket, was staring intently at Harry with his one normal eye, just inches away from his face, "We'll make a man out of you, yet, Potter."

Saturday morning progressed slowly as Moody lectured on how to enter rooms to avoid ambush and how to detect suspicious people (Harry thought nearly everyone was suspicious by Moody's standards, though).  Moody then proceeded to make Harry allow jinx after jinx be cast at him, as Harry would then have to guess what each jinx was and, if he could, perform a counter-jinx.  After two hours of this, Moody called a stop and told Harry that if he got good at countering and recognizing jinxes, then maybe Moody would let him practice casting jinxes.  Harry thought it was probably fair payback for summoning Moody's eye out of its socket.  

When Harry stumbled into Mrs. Figg's kitchen through the back door, his stomach grumbled so loudly that Mrs. Figg insisted he sit and eat something.  As she served him bacon and eggs, she told him that Remus had called on the Floo earlier to say that he and Tonks would be by around noon to see Harry and that Harry could stick around to wait for them and watch the telly in the meantime.  Instead, he fell asleep on her couch with three different cats curled up around and on top of him.  

Harry woke up to the cheerful sound of Tonks' voice, "Apparently Moody hasn't taught him a Proximity Charm yet."

"Huh?…Wha-?"  Harry sat up groggily, displacing a cat that had been dozing on his chest.  He straightened his glasses as he looked up to see Tonks watching him with amusement.  

Lupin was frowning at Harry, though, "Harry, what were you muttering?  Were you dreaming?"

Harry could feel himself pale at the first mention of his dreams since Ron and Hermione had been on him before Sirius had died.  Every night and anytime he slept, and even if Harry was just sitting in silence and trying not to think of anything at all, the same thing nagged in his head.  Harry could hear what sounded to him, like the voices he had heard from behind the veil that stood in the Department of Mysteries.  Harry believed these dreams and voices were as likely to be his own tormenting, guilt-ridden nightmares as they were to be thoughts sent by Voldemort to torment him.  He wasn't eager for anyone to know what it was that haunted him every night.  

"Harry?  Have you had any…dreams lately?"  The concern and worry was etched in every line of Lupin's face and even Tonks looked rather disconcerted.  

Harry rubbed his temples as he tried to think of a way to avoid the telling them about the voices.  "What was I saying?"  

Lupin and Tonks exchanged a glance.  Tonks must not have heard any muttering for she shrugged her shoulders and Lupin looked back at Harry, "You were muttering, it wasn't clear.  Something like 'louder' and 'hear you'.  Don't you recall?"

Harry closed his eyes and thought furiously, "Oh, I--I think it was a dream with Ron and Hermione…bickering…and I wanted to tell them that if they got any louder, they whole tower would hear them.  Probably a nightmare from all the studying we were forced to do before OWLs."

He saw Lupin give a sigh of relief and Tonks recovered, as she perched on the arm of the sofa and snapped her chewing gum, "So, what did old Mad-Eye teach you?  Anything?"

Harry gave them a full account of his training with Moody and of the previous day with Kingsley.  Tonks asked if Harry was all jinxed-out or if he wanted to work a bit more.  Harry said he would as long as he didn't have to have to be the one getting cursed all the time.  

They spent a good part of the afternoon showing each other their favorite hexes, curses, and jinxes.  Both Lupin and Tonks helped explain to Harry how you could try to determine what type of spell had been cast upon you and gave him hints on common countering spells that worked on a number of curses, jinxes and hexes.  Harry knew they were both impressed when he was able to name off a good number of his own spells that neither had never heard off; he chose not to let Lupin know about the Pocket-Picker jinx he had found, though.  

After a few hours, they called it a day and Tonks reminded Harry that he ought to be reading up on Apparition in his book of Standard Spells for 6th Year.  "Well, that will be kind of hard, seeing as how I don't have the book."

Lupin looked surprised, "Oh?  But Hermione already has hers."

Harry laughed, "Yeah and she has the standard book for seventh year as well.  She bought them all last year hoping to prepare for after the OWLs.  I don't have any of my stuff for next year and I need a load of new things-" he began ticking them off on his fingers,"-books, robes, quills, parchment, plus whatever else is on the lists for next years' NEWT prep courses.  Oh, and I need to go to Gringotts to get money to pay for it all.  I haven't been there--or even to Diagon Alley at all--since before third year.  Actually, I asked about going when I wrote to Professor Dumbledore but he never let me know."  Harry kicked over a clay pot as he figured he would have to just let someone else go for him to get his things like Mrs. Weasley had for the past two years.  

"Hmm, well, I have a book on Auror training that discusses Apparition.  It's more advanced but I could owl it to you tonight."  Tonks offered.

"Is it the Level One book?  I already have it--it's one that Dumbledore loaned me.  I haven't looked up Apparition in there yet."

Lupin added, "Well, for now, I can make a duplicate of the pages from Hermione's book and bring them Monday.  They will only last a day or so--most duplication enchantments won't last on copyrighted material.  No!  Wait--you see Albus tomorrow, right?  We can call him now on the Floo--I knew this would be handy!"  

Lupin went over to the fireplace with his wand, "Incendio!" and reached into an urn on the mantle and came out with a handful of Floo powder that he tossed into the flames.  He then bent down and stuck his head in the green flames and shouted, "Hogwarts Headmaster's Office!"  There was a pause and he spoke again. "Hello?  Anyone?  Albus?"  A few more moments passed, "Professor--is anyone there?"  He pulled out from the fire and dusted himself off and then looked at Harry, "Well, I'll call him on the Floo from Headquarters later and ask him to bring something from Hogwarts when he comes tomorrow.

"Oh, and Harry I nearly forgot, I found the other two-way mirror that Sirius had.  If you want, I can give it to Hermione and you can use it to communicate with each other?"

This caught Harry off guard and he was without an answer as he really wasn't sure he wanted to admit he had broken the last gift Sirius had given him.  A week earlier when trying to put his trunk in some order, he had just found all the broken pieces and after staring at them for a while, wrapped them up in an old robe.  He shrugged and said, "Won't do any good.  I broke it."

Tonks cocked her head to the side, "Aren't you a wizard?"

Harry looked at her like she had neon orange hair (oh wait, she did), "Yes…?"

Lupin said, "Do you still have all the pieces?"  Harry nodded.  "Didn't 'Reparo' work?"

Harry felt stupid now.  "Oh."  Lupin and Tonks both laughed at him and then bid him farewell and that they would both see him on Monday afternoon for training.  Tonks challenged Harry and Lupin to find three more spells none of the others had heard about for Monday.  Harry warned Lupin not to cheat and ask Hermione, as she could probably beat them all. 

When Harry arrived home to Number Four, he found Hedwig had returning with a letter from Ron.  He tore open the envelope as he wondered how Ron had done on his exams.

Harry, 

Congratulations on your OWL scores, mate.  We all got Outstanding's on our DADA and CoMC!  Have you decided what classes you are taking next year?  I think I'll take DADA, Divination (because it's so easy), CoMC, Herbology and History of Magic (because I can always use more sleep).  We only need to take five and I don't see any reason to do more.  What are you taking?  

Life sucks here.  Ginny and I are stuck here with Mum and Dad. Bill is supposedly staying here but hardly ever comes home.  Ginny is always writing letters and being a prat.  She had better not be writing Dean.  Didn't Lavender say that Dean was a womanizer or something once?  You should write Ginny and tell her you don't think Dean is right for her; she won't listen to me.  

I keep asking Mum if you can come over soon but she says Dumbledore won't allow it and then gets all huffy about it.  She and Dad have been having a row every other day--probably about Percy.  He hasn't apologized about being a git yet.  Fred and George said they saw him in Diagon Alley a week ago and Percy ignored them completely.  I think I heard Dad say he had been demoted and was now in charge of getting a replacement sculpture for the fountain at the Ministry or something.  Dad thinks they should have a muggle in the new sculpture.  Go figure.

Write back soon because I'm bored and Ginny isn't even willing to practice Quidditch with me.  Write Ginny, too, will you?

Ron

            Harry wondered what Ron would say when he found out they would only be in two classes together.  He also wondered why Ron didn't list all his scores as he was sure Hermione had done with both hers and Harry's when she wrote to Ron.  He figured Ron had not done quite as well as Harry and Hermione and was just embarrassed.  He decided he would write back later after his stomach gave a loud growl, reminding him he hadn't eaten since late in the morning and that if he didn't want to be starving for the rest of the night, he ought to head down to dinner now.  

Later that night after dinner, Harry pulled out the old robe he had worn his first year and unwrapped it to look at the broken mirror shards.  He stared at them and could remember Sirius barking a laugh or telling him how he'd set things straight if Snape were giving Harry any trouble.  He even thought he could hear Sirius now, saying not to be sad and not to feel guilty.  Harry had his wand ready to repair the glass, but as he thought about it, the shattered pieces of the mirror seemed to reflect the shattered hope that Harry had felt the first time he realized Sirius was never coming back.  He wrapped the shards back up and went to sleep to dream of the voices behind the veil.

~      ~      ~      ~      ~      ~      ~

A/N:  For my own easy access of chapter files from any computer, I've created a new yahoo group at the site posted on my bio page:    

I have posted (and will post future) chapter files to be available for download on this site.


	7. Chapter 10 Meetings of the Minds

Chapter 10.  Meetings of the Minds

             The next day, Harry slept in and was quite sore when he finally awoke and stumbled down to the kitchen to grab some food.  He was amazed that he was still enjoying a rather calm Dursleys residence.  Dudley had still never noticed nor mentioned Harry having got new clothes.  Harry figured if Dudley were to ever get a clue, it would have to hitch a ride atop a scone to get into Dudley's head.  

            Harry came back to his room, still working on an apple and plopped down into his desk chair and rummaged to pull out parchment, ink and quill to write a reply to Ron.  Hedwig hooted softly from her cage and looked at Harry with one eye opened a crack, as if to say, "You do know I am supposed to sleep during the day?"  Harry just turned up one side of his mouth in acknowledgement and went to writing.

_Ron, _

_            I am glad to hear you did well in DADA.  A few others have written me to say they also did well.  I really hope no one tries to give you-know-who (the other one) credit!  I haven't let on to the muggles yet that I am allowed to do it, but it's nice to imagine telling them—or showing them.  They have actually been quite un-Dursley-ish this summer: a very good thing.  Why are all of you there and not where you were last summer?  _

_How are the twins and their joke shop?  Is your mum still upset? Sorry about Percy.  Not really—he is a git.  Why are you worried about Ginny?  Dean is a perfectly nice guy and I do not recall anyone ever saying anything otherwise.  Well, I will write a note to Ginny, but only because you have me worried that our only two competent returning quidditch players are not practicing at all when they very well should be.  If I could be out flying anytime I wanted, you'd have to drag me in to go to sleep at night.  _

_Oh, the classes I elected were: Transfiguration, Charms, DADA, CoMC, and Potions.  Yes—Potions!!  If you think you're surprised, imagine how Snape will feel!!  McGonagall recommended it in my Career Advice counseling and I actually managed to qualify for it so I figured I might as well try to annoy Snape for a full 7 years.  I am not sure what Hermione all has but I am sure she will at least be in my same classes and whatever else she can't help but take.  _

_Sorry I've been so busy and didn't have time to write you sooner.  Speaking of which, I really should hurry up now.  Get on your broom and practice!_

_                                                                        Harry_

Harry had a few more minutes before he was to meet Professor Dumbledore at Mrs. Figg's.  He quickly shuffled to a new piece of parchment (nearly the last one he had) and scribbled off a note to Ginny.  

_Ginny, _

_            Ron's bored and complaining that you aren't keeping him amused sufficiently.  Just ask him occasionally what he thinks about the Cannons this year.  That should occupy him for a few hours._  

            Harry paused here and was having the same thoughts he had when writing Hermione for the first time this summer: that he wanted to apologize and thank Ginny for being with him at the Department of Mysteries.  But, Harry figured her answer would be the same as Hermione's.  If anything, he'd do it in person.  

            _Don't listen to Ron about Dean.  He is just being an overprotective brother.  He wanted me to write to tell you that Dean is all wrong for you, but first off, there is nothing wrong with Dean and secondly, I have no idea who would be right for you.  So you should just ignore Ron and do whatever you want.  Like you need me to tell you that—you are a Weasley!  _

_            Oh, but, I can say, I think you and Ron should take advantage of being together and being able to go flying and be practicing quidditch every day.   If I can't play, then I better at least be able to watch Gryffindor win.  No go practice!!!     _

_                                                            Harry_

             Harry rolled up the letters, sealed them and laid them on his desk with a look to Hedwig who had her back to him.  He figured he would send them off later when she wasn't in such a fowl mood.  

            Harry arrived at Mrs. Figg's house to find her and Professor Dumbledore chatting away in the parlor.  Mrs. Figg jumped up and bustled about to shove Harry into a chair in front of a full plate of biscuits and sandwiches. For someone who hadn't seemed to care about him as more than someone to bore to death with stories of her cats, Harry was amazed at the fervor with which the woman was constantly putting food in front of him.  Not that he ever complained.  She never really cooked much except for some breakfast foods but she did know how to make excellent sandwiches and often brewed the most delightful pot of Kenilworth Ceylon Tea.  

"Hello Harry.  How are you?"  It was amazing how this same question from so many other people, could illicit little more than an 'Fine' from Harry, but now, from Dumbledore, a million thoughts rushed into Harry's mind.  

Dumbledore likely sensed this and asked a more specific question, "Harry, I've been wondering, have you been any having any significant dreams lately?  Recurring ones perhaps?"  

_Ah, so Lupin apparently didn't buy my story yesterday_.  Harry looked down for a moment and wondered best how to phrase his recollection of his persisting dreams.  

"Harry, it may help to remind you that since we will be practicing Occlumency together, I will likely see anything you would want to hide form me."  

"Oh no sir, I was just wondering how best to describe them.  They are all the same, more or less."  Harry took a deep breath, looked at Dumbledore and went on, "In the room with the veil, at the Ministry.  When I first saw the veil, I thought I could voices from it or behind it…or something.  It was…intriguing.  Almost, well…enchanting or…mesmerizing.  Well, that's what I dream of.  The veil.  The voices.  Always the voices."  Dumbledore was peering intently over his half-moon glasses at Harry.  "I'm not, I mean I won't be fooled.  I know it could be Voldemort, trying to...well, plotting something no doubt.  But, on the other hand, the dreams aren't really disturbing all that much as they were a few weeks ago."

"How so Harry?"

Harry hadn't really thought about it but it was true that at first the dreams would renew the guilt he felt for causing Sirius's death.  He spoke slowly, "Before, the dreams made me feel guilty.  I used to dream I could hear Sirius's voice begging to get back to help me.  Now, sometimes, one of the voices sounds more like Sirius telling me not to feel guilty and to live on.

Dumbledore was still silent and contemplatively leaning back now and stroking his beard.  

"Do you think it is Voldemort, sir?"

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and gave a soft smile, "I can't be sure, but if it is, I am sure his intention was not to comfort you.   

"The only motive I can think of for Voldemort to cause you to dream of the veil and Sirius is to try to lure you to investigate the veil.  The veil, I am quite sorry to say with complete certainty, is a one-way portal—to the afterlife.  

"Before the Ministry employed the use of Dementors and would sentence the most extreme criminals to the Dementor's Kiss, they would, instead, be sentenced to walk Beyond the Veil.  The veil's mysterious voices have long been debated.  Not everyone, it seems can hear them, and of those that do, each seems to hear different voices or perhaps even only a single voice.  But there has never been a record of actually communicating with these voices or discerning their words.  Many have said, Harry, as you have, that the voices were soothing or comforting, though.  It is most--mysterious--as you would expect anything in that particular department to be.

"Now, you'll be sure to let me now if there are any new developments with your dreams or hearing the voices, yes?"  Dumbledore had Harry skewered on one of his piercing gazes again. 

A feeble voice in the back of Harry's mind wondered if he ought to mention that he might be hearing the voices when he was awake but a much stronger voice echoed in his memory of being told, "Even in the wizarding world, hearing voices isn't a good thing."  Harry just nodded and didn't say a word.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Good.  Now then, let's head out back and get down to business."  Harry and Dumbledore then headed out to Mrs. Figg's backyard and crossed it to the enchanted potting shed.  

"Now Harry, I know of all the books I sent to you, the least exciting would be the one on Occlumency and Legilimency, but I will still ask, have you had a chance to read this book?"

Harry felt a slight twinge of sheepishness as he had indeed chosen to read the more exciting books with all sorts of spells and defenses over this book up until the previous night when he figured he ought to finally crack it open.  "Well, I actually was looking over it last night."  Unfortunately, the book was so dull and verbose that Harry fell asleep using the pages as a pillow after a mere half-hour. "But it was rather…er…complex."  Harry was thinking that perhaps the book worked by boring the readers into being so mind-numb that their brains emptied of all thought and they were thereby, masters of Occlumency.  

"Yes, I am afraid that it is the only available book on the subject.  There are few who are familiar with the art and fewer still that would help others to learn of it.  That particular book is quite scientifically aimed and isn't much for teaching as it is for explaining and theorizing."

Dumbledore was walking around the inside of the shed now and seemed pleased enough.  He turned to Harry and said, "Well, let's begin and see what you have learned from working with Professor Snape, shall we?"

Harry drew out his wand and was preparing himself for an onslaught as he had endured with Snape.  Instead, Dumbledore asked, "Now what questions was Professor Snape probing for, do you know?"

Harry had no clue what this meant and was sure he looked bewildered as he shook his head, "I dunno, sir."

"Do you understand the questing process?"

Again, bewilderment and a shaking head, "Uh, no?"

Dumbledore looked slightly disappointed for a mere moment but recovered and then explained, "To Legilimence is to quest for memories, images, and feelings specific to a particular emotion or desire.  It would be a confusing jumble to just ask for all the thoughts in one's mind.  Rather, questions are posed to pull forth memories and feelings relevant to a particular emotion, such as love, joy, triumph, anger, shame--the list is endless.  

"The memories and images your mind may provide alone are not often useful, unless they can be interpreted as meaningful.  

"For instance, Voldemort, if he had the opportunity, may want to discern from you for whom you care about a great deal in the hopes of using this information against you.  He would Legilimence for love and affection then.  Or, perhaps, he would wish to humiliate and degrade you and then bring forth your memories associated with feelings of shame and embarrassment.  Most likely of all though, is that he would simply want to know what it is you most wish for him to never to know and for this, he would seek out your thoughts and memories associated with secrecy."

Harry was dumbstruck that he hadn't realized that Snape wasn't just rooting through random memories but was seemingly going through Harry's _worst_ memories.  Perhaps they were all things he was ashamed about.  Perhaps they were things Harry wouldn't have wanted to Snape to know.  _Life with the Dursleys, being bullied by Dudley and his gang, chased up a tree by Aunt Marge's stupid dog, Ripper, the sorting hat telling Harry he would do well in Slytherin, and Cho--moving towards him for a kiss_--"Things I didn't want him to know.  Professor Snape was searching most definitely for things I didn't want him to know."  Harry was sure of it.

Dumbledore gave a small smile, "Yes.  It may seem to have been cruel, Harry, but really, it is the most dangerous of questions to withstand.  Not to mention, it also carries with it an innate motivation to learn to block the quest.  

"Now, a key to blocking a quest is to be able to identify what it is being sought.  Of course, after a full-out Legilimency attack has begun, it is often too late to prevent it completely, however, it will allow you to understand the nature of the quest.  Anticipating the quest and its purpose is extremely important.  You will learn to always block the thoughts of things you wish no one else to know but you will need some quick thinking and good intuition to be able to accurately and effectively anticipate, confirm, block and--eventually--deceive other particular quests.  

"Let's begin with something simple.  I will quest for thoughts that you associate with happiness or joy.  You already will know for what I am going to probe.  See if you can stop me from pulling forth these thoughts and seeing them.  Stopping the probing is the first battle of Occlumency.  The second is the part that may allow you to use Occlumency as your own powerful weapon.  A Legilimencer will know if you simply block them and produce no memories for them to see.  However, when you can control the process within your mind and then filter forth thoughts of your own volition, you may thus manipulate the Legilimencer and deceive them from the truth.  

"Now, Harry without telling me, can you think of memories where you were happy?  Those are what I will seek out in your mind to bring forth and see.  You try to stop me.  Are you ready to begin?"

Harry was actually beginning to think that the way Dumbledore explained it, Occlumency actually seemed possible; not that great intangible obstacle of trying to completely empty out his mind of all thought, like Snape had asked him to do.  Harry nodded his assent.

_"Legilimens!"  _

Harry was flying a victory lap after catching the snitch in a quidditch game in his first year…Cho Chang was running up to him in the hallway smiling at him, holding his hand and kissing him on the cheek…Harry and Sirius were walking back from the Shrieking Shack in the tunnel and Harry had just found out he would never have to live with the Dursley's again…Harry had just waved his wand for the first time at Ollivander's and red and gold sparks were flying out of it…his wand… he could feel his wand now in his hand…he focused on gripping his wand tighter and tried to see it in his hand….his wand…

"Good Harry!  That was very good!"  Dumbledore had his wand down now and was smiling at Harry.  "Let me tell you all I could see from your thoughts.  I saw you flying and holding the snitch after a game, walking hand in hand with a certain Ravenclaw, you and Sirius walking in a tunnel--likely from the Shrieking Shack to the Whomping Willow, then you getting your wand, and then you stopped me from probing further and only showed me an image of your wand.  Do you know why it was you were able to stop me and focus on your wand?"

"I think…I thought or remembered that there was something I could do to stop you with my wand.  I could stop your spell.  I was able to stop Snape a few times by using my wand to stop him."

Dumbledore was nodding, "Yes, Professor Snape did say you showed a tendency to use magic of the wand and not mind to try to repel attacks.  However, you will notice, this time, you _did_ use your mind and never had to use your wand to stop me from probing further.  You do not need to stop me from casting the spell so much as you need to stop me from probing your mind.  

"Now you have fresh in your mind, memories of joy and happiness.  What I want you to do next is to attempt to stop my probing and feed me one of those joyous memories instead of the ones I seek."

"What will you be seeking?"

Dumbledore looked at Harry for a moment and then said, "Let's say, physical pain; quite the opposite from happiness and joy.  Let's see what you can do_.  Legilimens!"_

Harry was screaming on the ground in the graveyard under the Cruciatus curse…Harry was seeing the newly reborn face of Voldemort and his scar felt as if his head would split in half…a bludger smashed into his outstretched hand during a quidditch game…needle-sharp pain searing through his scar as Quirrell held onto him…his right hand being carved into by a magical quill during detention as Umbridge smiled sadistically at him…Umbridge…Umbridge leering with the evil smile as his Firebolt was chained to a wall behind her…Firebolt…Flying about to catch the snitch in a quidditch game…a bludger smashing into his right hand as he had reached for the snitch….his right hand having 'I must not tell lies' etched onto its back and bleeding freely…Umbridge smiling sadistically…Umbridge being chased away from school by Peeves pelting her with a sock full of chalk and McGonagall's walking stick…

"Good.  Of course, assuming, Professor Umbridge's leaving was not one that caused you physical pain?"  Dumbledore had an odd look on his face of a wry smile but more tense.  

"No sir, not at all."  In fact, if Harry thought about, it was one of his finer memories in his recent past.  

"It seemed, Harry, that I thought you might turn it around when you saw yourself reaching for the snitch.  Unfortunately, you also have a memory of reaching for a snitch associated with great pain--when you broke your arm.  I was able to regain a grip into your mind then.  However, I think perhaps, your own anger at Professor Umbridge's treatment of you was battling for your thoughts against my probing.  Your will to indulge in feeling anger was overcoming my will to probe.  You were even able to seek out a happy memory--her leaving--associated with her then."  Dumbledore had his hands behind his back and was looking at Harry appraisingly.  "It is interesting, Harry, that your own will would be powerful enough on its own accord to go against my questing probe.  It may not have been your intent to do as you did but your strength of emotion and willpower enabled your mind to follow its own thoughts.    Interesting, indeed.  It shows an incredible strength of will and mind."  Dumbledore was smiling at Harry and his eyes were twinkling in a way that made Harry feel rather proud if himself.   "You definitely have the power to master Occlumency in you."

"Now, as I said before, as the questions become more sensitive or 'probing' in nature, the more motivation you will have to prevent them from being pulled forth.  Let's try something more…difficult.  I believe your strength of willpower may enable you to excel at this more than blocking simple quests.  Shall we see if I am right?"

Harry nodded but then asked, "For what will you probe?"  He was starting to feel a slight trepidation and what thoughts would be brought forth next.

Dumbledore looked at him steadily for a moment and considered him before saying, "Let's say thoughts you don't wish to remember or perhaps, memories you fear; a very common Legilimency quest.  Ready?"  Harry steeled himself and nodded, _"Legilimens!"_

Cedric lay dead on the ground near the graveyard…he could see his Mum and Dad waving at him from the Mirror of Erised…Harry was yelling and shouting every hateful thought he had at Ron and Hermione on the night he arrived at Grimmauld Place…Harry was watching Sirius's stunned body arch and fall through the veil…Bellatrix Lestrange was taunting Harry as he flung himself from behind the fountain, pointed his wand at her and screamed _'Crucio!'_ making her fall to the ground and scream…

"NO!!"  Harry was on his knees, gasping and trembling. "Stop…" A wave of all-consuming disgust and fear and horror was washing over him starting in the pit of his stomach and taking over his body.  He was swimming in a sea of self-loathing and he kept hearing himself shouting the curse over and over.  The shame and disgust was crawling out of his stomach and Harry vomited onto the ground in front of him and heaved for air as tears spilled from his eyes.  

A hand was on each of his shoulders and he heard Dumbledore's voice in his ear, "Shhh now, Harry.  Calm down.  Stand up now and come over here."  Dumbledore pulled out his wand and conjured up a sofa.  Harry was still trembling and felt as if his body wanted to curl up into itself in shame as Dumbledore directed him over to sit on the sofa.  

A/N:  For my own easy access of chapter files from any computer, I've created a new yahoo group at the site posted on my bio page.  The group name is "HP_AoF".  I have posted (and will post future) chapter files to be available for download on this site.


	8. Chapter 11 Crucio and Beyond

Chapter 11.  Crucio and Beyond

Harry wanted to get away.  He felt caged and trapped as he had the night after Sirius's death in Dumbledore's office.  The night after he had cast an Unforgivable curse.  Harry scooted back into the corner of the sofa and brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs.  He still had his wand gripped tightly in his hand.  He could feel Dumbledore looking at him and watching him.  _What must he think of me now?  Fat lot of help I'll be rotting in Azkaban for the rest of my so-called life._  Harry moved his hands, still gripping his wand to the sides of his head and pulled on his hair and wished he could just die right there.  

"Harry?  What is it?"  Dumbledore was speaking in a soft and gentle voice that Harry was sure was meant to soothe him but it really did nothing of the sort.  Harry looked at him like he was mad; how could he not know what he had seen?  "Harry?  Was it Bellatrix?"  

Harry could feel himself go even paler and die just a little bit more inside.  He didn't think he could take much more of this.  His body seemed to have forgotten how to breath and he was choking on air and certainly Dumbledore had to hear the sounds of his choking and know he was about to die.  

Dumbledore reached out to put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder but Harry jerked back, palms up facing Dumbledore, still holding his wand and his eyes were wide as he looked at the man before him.  He couldn't hold his arms or body steady as he trembled.  He knew his mouth was working to say something, but his brain supplied nothing.  He dropped his head again to his knees. He felt Dumbledore reach towards him and gently take his wand out of his hand.  

"Harry, the last thing I saw was you dueling with Bellatrix.  What happened?"  

Harry looked up and couldn't believe he now had to actually say the words out loud to explain what he did.  And he did have to say it.  He couldn't live with this.  He would rather die than feel this.  He swallowed a few times and tried to look at Professor Dumbledore through his tear-streaked glasses, "I…I tried to...I cursed her."  He dropped his head again.  How could he put this into words to tell _Dumbledore_, of all people?

"What curse did you use, Harry?"  

Harry felt himself begin to stop trembling and felt as if the last part of him finally died inside as he whispered, "Crucio."  He couldn't help it, some morbid part of him still alive wanted to see the face on the headmaster as he said this and Harry looked at him.  

Only he was smiling?  He reached out to put a hand atop Harry's bewildered head and spoke softly, "And were you able to hold it?"

_What the bloody hell difference did that make?!?  I cast it!!  Harry could feel his mouth working again, but the mouth to brain connection was again not functioning._

"What happened when you cast it, Harry, tell me?" Dumbledore was gently pushing back some hair from his face to better see him.

"She fell to the ground and screamed!!  What else would happen?!"  Harry swallowed with his eyes wide and wild now, just waiting to be yelled at.  To be told what a disappointment he was and that they were doomed to have him as their only hope.  He was feeling reckless and it was starting to sink in that he had cast an _Unforgivable.  He gave a short, dry laugh as he said, "And then she told me it was obviously my first Unforgivable.  That I had much to learn!  Said I only had _'righteous anger'_!!"_

"Exactly, Harry!"  Dumbledore had both hands on either side of Harry's head and was forcing him to look at him.  "I don't believe for a second you could have actually cast that curse. What makes the Unforgivable Curse so unforgivable is not the wanting to cast it but the extent of emotion and intent required to carry out the curse to its fullest execution!  This is important, Harry.  You must realize the difference."  His hands moved down to Harry's shoulders.  "The Cruciatus Curse is a _continuous_ spell.  If Bellatrix said you only had 'righteous anger' than you likely only hit her with what amounted to a stinging hex."

"But she fell to the ground and screamed!  Not for long, she got right back up, but she--"

"She was reacting to the spell being said, most likely.  Not to the spell hitting her.  You would have wanted to hurt her; you had just witnessed her killing Sirius.  You may have instinctively resorted to that curse because you knew it would cause pain, but when it comes down to it, Harry, you didn't have the _hate_ inside you to _want_ to cause pain to hurt."

"But, I've..._I _have_ felt it.  I __know what it feels like.  I must have wanted her to suffer that!"_

"Maybe for a moment, but you were not able to summon the hate within you to cause that suffering."  Dumbledore pulled back and continued, "I won't say that you will never be able to cast an Unforgivable.  I won't even say you won't ever have to-- you might.  It's the truth.  But you are very different from someone like Bellatrix or Voldemort--"

"You said once, it is not our abilities but our choices that make us who we are.  Look what I chose to do!  I'm no better than Voldemort or any of his followers…"

Dumbledore smiled at him again, "Not all our choices are conscious ones, Harry.  Your heart could _not do it.  Even now--look at you!  Do you think Voldemort has regrets about causing another pain?" _

Harry recalled the young Tom Riddle he had seen in the Chamber of Secrets.  He was nearly the same age now as the memory of Riddle.  Could he imagine the sixteen-year-old Riddle feeling regret?  "How could anyone hate that much?  How could anyone possibly hate more than I did that night?"  The only memory he had of being equally as full of hate was when he had thought Sirius had been the traitor who killed his parents and was laughing about it that night in the Shrieking Shack.  He wanted to kill him then, but he had not known how.  He was just as hateful at Bellatrix.  But he didn't try to kill her.  He wanted to _hurt her.  He __still wanted to hurt her.  "I still hate her.  Everything she's done--to Neville's parents, to Neville, to Sirius.  I think I might even hate her more than Voldemort."  Harry looked at Dumbledore as he said this and wondered how this could be true, but it sure seemed that way in his mind._

Dumbledore had a look of pride in his eyes that mystified Harry, "Harry, I can't blame you for hating.  You have a lot of reasons to be angry with a lot of things.  You've taken everything that has been thrown at you and you still stand up ready for more--"

"I don't have a choice!"

"But you do.  I never thought you wouldn't still be deep in grief over Sirius at this time.  I never thought you would be as eager and willing to reach out for help and to begin training this soon.  I would have understood if it took you a year or more!  But you have made choices to accept your role and the fate before you."

"That was no choice.  There is no other way--you said so yourself…what good would sitting around in grief do me or anyone else?  Sirius wouldn't want me to do that."

"No, he would not.  But you could have chosen to ignore it or to try to run from it, to deny it."

"That wouldn't help anyone.  It's only a matter of time before he starts to go after muggles or my friends or Order members...and always--after me.  'More terrible and greater than before.'  It's what Trelawney said in her prophecy the night Wormtail got away.  If we believe the one prophecy, we must believe the other.  It will be worse this time that it was before.  I see how scared people are to hear Voldemort is back.  How much worse can he get?  I have no clue but I imagine, we have no choice but to find out.  So no matter what I do, he is ahead of the game.  Losing Sirius is only one person-- how many others will I lose?"  Harry's eyes were searching Dumbledore's face begging for him to be told there was another way.  That perhaps it would not have to get that bad before somehow, Voldemort could be stopped.  

Dumbledore seemed to age decades in front of Harry as he sighed a long breath and looked deeply saddened, "I don't know, Harry.  I wish, I could tell you it won't be so, but I fear you are right and that the time before us will be dark.  But there is hope; there is always hope when people are willing to fight.   Much of my hope is with you, Harry."

"But I--"

"No.  Because you were not able to cast a successful Cruciatus Cruse, my hope has only increased.  You may learn a lot about yourself from that.  Now, let me make a suggestion.  This is something I was going to ask you to do to help you sort through your thoughts to aid in mastering Occlumency, but it will also help you to understand how you feel and who you are.  I want you to keep a journal.  Not necessarily a day-to-day diary as much as a record and sorting of your thoughts.  You need to learn to master your own mind and the thoughts, emotions and feelings you have in order to best defend them and the truths within you.   I can send Fawkes with a book tonight."

"No, I have one.  Haven't used it ever."  The idea of putting his memories on paper was a terrifying one to Harry; he didn't even like to think about some of them, much less make them into concrete words and sentences.

"The thoughts and memories in your past and in your mind are your own, Harry.  You must be the master of them.  It is one thing to not be strong enough or trained to protect your thoughts from invasion by another, but you absolutely _must learn to withstand your own thoughts and memories."  _

The next week went by fairly quickly with Harry working with Tonks and Lupin on Monday where they both described the apparition theory, process and the test he would be required to take to pass his licensing.  Tuesday, only Tonks came to work with Harry.  She explained that she was still on leave from work until the first full week in August when she would only be able to work with Harry on her day off and possibly on weekends.  She worked on teaching Harry spells to create diversions.  Harry thought most of these sounded like things Fred and George would do just for fun.  By Wednesday, Both and Lupin and Tonks had noticed Harry was training with an exceptional amount of intensity that they both remarked upon.  Harry offered no explanations for this.   

On Thursday, Harry had his first training session with Professor McGonagall.  She brought with her several things and not the least surprising was a book entitled, _Transfiguration for Engaging in Muggle Warfare_ by J. McGonagall.  Harry had to ask, "Is this written by a relative of yours?"

She gave a slight smile and with one eyebrow raised explained, "My father.  He worked to create and train an army of wizards and witches to help fight amongst muggles when their world was in war.  He wrote this shortly before he died.  I thought you might read it and see what you think of it; working with metals is one of your stronger areas of transfiguration, I know."

McGonagall then moved on to pace back and forth before Harry in full lecture mode as she extolled the many ways in which transfiguration could be used to defend oneself.  Harry had always found her lectures to be very tedious and boring and much more detail orientated than he ever cared to understand, but this was a whole new McGonagall.  

"One skilled at transfiguration, Mr. Potter, will find he or she can create or conjure up nearly anything with which to fight and use in defense.  You need a knife to cut free a rope--then transfigure a stick on the ground.   You need to block a spell that is penetrating your shield charm-- then use a switching spell to translocate an object to impede your attacker's casting.  You need to hide to avoid being seen or detected--then conjure something to obscure yourself.  You need an ally to help you-- then animate a suit of armor to fight with you.  The magic of transfiguration is truly endless; if you can imagine it, then you can create it.  I believe Kingsley has already begun to instruct you on separating your incantations and spell casting?  Confidentially, incantations: intended to help one learn and focus, often become a crutch.  I mean it when I say if you can imagine it, then you can do it.   

"You wand is a magical amplifier and concentrator.  It helps to focus your magical energy and direct it.  The inner core provides the amplification component.  Your voiced incantations help you to learn when and how to release and direct your magic.  You learn to correlate increases in voice tone and volume with increased magic quantity and power.  In reality, our voices tend to reflect the changes in our emotions and passion associated with directing our magic.  I will help you learn to bypass the need to voice incantations and eventually, to not require incantations or even preconceived knowledge of a spell to perform the action you desire.  

"Professor Dumbledore and myself both agree that you have always had exceptional magical power, Mr. Potter; I believe you have been hindered by a lack of passion and motive in your coursework.  We also believe you have never been one to require that you understand the theory behind spellcasting, but rather, you perform when you believe you should or must, so I will skip that part of teaching you all together-- I wouldn't want you to fall asleep with no Mr. Weasley to pass notes back and forth."  Harry must have looked rather sheepish and shamed at this, for McGonagall explained further, "Potter, this is not a bad thing.  It is actually more rare but leaves you with a lot more potential than, say, even Ms. Granger.  While she works extremely hard to study and understand theories and to perfect execution of spells, she is limited by what she believes to be possible.  She needs to understand something completely to believe it can be done and she is therefore limited.  It makes her an excellent student of magic, but your approach will enable you be an excellent wizard and practitioner of magic." 

The time flew by and McGonagall lectured on into the afternoon and Harry was startled to realize that the time had flown by so quickly as they were wrapping up.

"Potter, I have also brought along your NEWT course confirmation letter and your book list.  Hmm, I will speak with Professor Dumbledore about how you are to procure your books and supplies.  As for your holiday homework for my class, I will consider your work with me to be sufficient, however; I will be giving you an assignment each week that I expect you to have completed for our next meeting.  For next week, I would like you to write an essay discussing different types of spells and categorizing them by how transfiguration might be used to block these different spells." 

She was about to head out the door when she stopped again and gave Harry a stern look that made him wonder what he had done, "Oh yes, Potter?  Ms. Weasley wrote me to inquire about your status on the Gryffindor Quidditch team this upcoming term.  She said she believed you were under the impression you were still banned from playing?  Untrue.  Any, --" her mouth was curled in disgust as she spoke now, "--_rules_ or _decrees_ that were implemented last year were almost all summarily dismissed and can be disregarded.  You are back as our Seeker.  And, I would like for you to captain the team this year.  You're the only one returning with any real experience and when we get back to school, I want to plan on holding full tryouts so we can find some Beaters who aren't thick as two short planks.  Since we don't want to seem to be only trying to single out Misters Kirke and Sloper--even though we are--I suggest a full try out.  Ms. Weasley has already expressed interest in trying out for Chaser, at least we know she can fly, but we will need to fill in at least two more there.  You can tell Mr. Weasley that he will retain his position as long as he plays as well as he did in his last game.  It best not takes him a whole year to keep from being pipped at the post every time someone shoots the quaffle.  I am rather fond of that cup remaining in my study and I would like to keep it there.  

"Your Firebolt, I had it serviced myself; didn't trust that nothing _untoward had not been done to it.  I have it in my office.  If you like, I can bring it next week?"  Harry nodded.  It had been over six months since he had touched his beloved broom.  "Very well.  See you next week then, Potter."_

That night Harry began work on his essay for McGonagall and soon found in _Defensive Magic to Avoid Death, a table listing spells and blocking transfigurations for each as defined by the type and nature of spell and available resources; it was exactly what McGonagall wanted.  Harry was still intrigued by the idea of being able to conjure up whatever he might need so he continued to look up several of the listed spells and practiced whispering the incantations in his room until nearly midnight.  _

He was just noticing how similar the switching spell he was using to make his desk chair switch locations and soar over in front of him and the Pocket-Pick jinx that he had practiced on a chair in Mrs. Figg's shed were, when a sudden buzzing and chirping startled him from focusing.  

"Pigwidgeon! Come here you dolt!"  Harry had to snatch him out of the air and then hold him still as he untied the letter from the frenzied owl.  Luckily, Hedwig was out hunting and Harry didn't have to see her shoot him dirty looks for associating with such an inferior owl.  He unrolled the letter from Ron and read:

_Harry, _

_Don't you want to play Quidditch this year??  You have to, mate!! Ginny wrote McGonagall to make sure your ban was lifted.  We were both irate that you might still not be able to play.  There is nothing as important as quidditch!  We have to defend the Cup this year!!  There is no way anyone can beat us with you back on the team.  _

_Have you been hanging out with Hermione?  I think she has been a bad influence on you--why would you take all those courses when you could take it easy?  Are you sure you are feeling all right, mate?  I don't want to take Divination alone--who will make up homework with me?  I hope I at least get to have it with that centaur and not the old bat.  _

_And why--tell me, WHY--would you want to take POTIONS!?!?  ARE YOU MAD???  Harry!!  Do you KNOW who teaches that class??  Perhaps you forgot-- it's SNAPE!!  I am beginning to wonder if these letters are being intercepted and if it's not really Harry who wrote that he was ELECTING to take BLOODY POTIONS!!!!  _

_Speaking of bloody potions, you will never guess who was here the other day.  Mum said I shouldn't tell you who though, not in a letter, anyway.  Speaking of letters, thanks for writing Ginny.  Whatever you said to her--the prat wouldn't show me--she hasn't talked about Dean once since then.  She also never shuts up about the Cannons lately--I think she finally realized what a good team they will have this year.  They still need to nail down a Seeker for this year but they're bound to be in the top two in the conference!  _

Harry skipped through the rest of the letter as it detailed the Cannons' roster changes and their schedule for the upcoming season and shooed the irritating, manic owl out the window so he could finally get to sleep.

On Friday, Harry was able to sleep in late, as he did not have to meet Kingsley until late afternoon.  He spent much of the day working to add more points and discussions to his research for McGonagall's essay before he decided to pull out the journal from Hermione.  Harry had promised Professor Dumbledore to try to use a journal to sort through his thoughts and memories to better organize and know his mind.  Until now, Harry had not done anything of the sort.

Harry was finally feeling better today and felt like he might just be able to make some headway.  As he opened to a blank page in the book, he recalled how he had came to a decision a few days ago to stop feeling sorry and regretful for cursing Bellatrix.  He still loathed the truth of what he had done--proper execution of the spell or not, but he now laid the full blame upon Bellatrix and Voldemort.  He knew it wasn't completely right but he made a conscious decision to funnel his feelings on the incident into something constructive besides self-loathing, disgust or shame:  _righteous anger_.  

It was what Bellatrix had accused him of acting upon when he had tried to curse her.  She was right, only now, Harry felt compelled to prove to her just how much righteous anger could really do.  

He dipped his quill in ink and began to write:

_Things I Blame Bellatrix Lestrange For_

_1. __Neville's parents loosing their sanity_

_2. __Neville never knowing his parents_

_3. __Cursing and taunting Neville at the Ministry_

_4. __Threatening to curse Ginny at the Ministry_

_5. __Going after and killing Sirius_

_6. __My Righteous Anger_

He had written the last one with deliberate conviction.  Harry paused and pondered another list he might make…Voldemort…Snape…Dumbledore questing for memories he would rather not remember…

_Things I Wish Had Never Happened_

_1. __Voldemort_

_2. __Prophecy_

_3. __Sirius in Azkaban_

_4. __Wormtail escaping_

_5. __Voldemort coming back_

_6. __My parents and Sirius dying_

_7. __My father and Sirius bullying Snape_

_8. __Cedric Dying_

_9. __Being lured to the Ministry_

_10. __Forgetting about the mirror_

_11. __Being jealous of Ron_

12. _Having to live with the Dursleys_

Other thoughts ran through his mind as he had slowed in adding items to the list.  He was thinking of things but then rejecting some.  He picked out and wrote down only the ones he knew for sure he wished had never happened at all.  "Maybe this is what Legilimency is like; you scan through thoughts and pick out the ones that match what you are looking for.  What other questions did Dumbledore mention…?"

_Things I Wish No One Ever Knows_

Harry paused and thought for a long minute before finally writing:

_1. __Sorting Hat considering me for Slytherin_

It was actually funny that the one person Harry might have to hide his thoughts from, Voldemort, may just find this endearing.  _(Endearing…Ha!)_  Of course, Dumbledore already knew this but it was really Harry's friends who he wished not to know.  He wondered if they would think ill of him and the fact that had he not wanted to _not_ go into Slytherin, he may very well have been sorted there.  Hmm, maybe he would find it amusing to see their reactions.  He recalled the memory of the Sorting Hat telling him he would do well in Slytherin when he and Snape had just begun to practice Occlumency.  "Maybe I don't care so much who knows that." he mumbled as he crossed it out on the page. He paused and could think of nothing else to list.  

He shut the journal and then pulled out his course confirmation letter.  It listed each NEWT level course he had, the sixth year course objectives, and described any assignments to be completed before the end of Holiday.  Harry's letter had no homework listed for Transfiguration, CoMC, and DADA.  Harry knew Hagrid rarely assigned written work (Harry suspected he did not want to have to read through it all), but the fact that there was no Defense homework would mean they still had yet to find a new teacher.  

When Harry read his Charms ("Describe and discuss Disillusionment charms and their applications, uses and precautions to be observed when performing on live beings.  Begin practicing casting of Disillusionment charm on inanimate objects.") and Potions ("Discuss the biochemical effects of ingested truth serums and how they might be countered." and "Research and summarize one class of poisons and theorize what properties would be required of a universal class antidote.") assignments and suspected that Flitwick and Snape may have given Harry these specific assignments at Professor Dumbledore's request.  

Training with Kingsley went well enough.  He had been pleased that Harry was now able to completely break though his Full Body Bind within about ten seconds.  He also was impressed Harry could now whisper an incantation and, if concentrating, still cast at full strength.  Harry still was struggling to wake up his mind after being stunned, however, Kingsley assured him it often takes several weeks for an Auror to learn this during fulltime training.  

He also let Harry practice binding him with magical ropes and then demonstrated the different amounts of power in spell each time it was cast, as he would try to break through the ropes.  Kingsley told Harry before he had to leave that he was making excellent progress and that even Moody had been impressed after his first training with Harry.

The next morning Harry had to meet with Moody again and continued to impress him with quickly whipping through several different jinxes as Harry identified and countered each.   (Harry made a mental note to thank Lupin and Tonks.)

"All right, Potter, let's see how well you wield your wand."  Harry was relived to hear he was done with being jinxed.  

"Now, put your wand away."  Moody was also tucking his own wand into his robes.  "On the count of three we draw.  Have you been practicing with that holster I gave you?"  

Harry had just tucked his wand into the holster currently strapped onto his forearm and nodded.  He was confident he had some excellent maneuvers to draw his wand.  

"One…two…THREE!"

Harry drew his wand with a flick his wrist but was immediately stunned by Moody.

_"Ennervate._  Don't do you much good to draw a wand if you're not gonna use it, boy."  

Harry stood back up and shook himself off and was thinking grumpily, "You never said I was to cast a spell."  

The both replaced their wands and Moody ordered, "Let's try it again, Potter.  One…two…_STUPEFY!!"_

_"Ennervate."_

Harry awoke to see that damn whizzing blue eye of Moody's going around and around and he was beginning to wish he had read more of _Dueling with Wizards Who Play Dirty_.  He ground out through clenched teeth, "Why don't we both count to three and then _after_, we have both said 'three', then we draw.  How's that sound?"  Harry was beginning to think Moody just liked to use him for target practice.  _Hmm, we'll see how he likes a moving target then_.

After they had both replaced their wands, Moody started, "You think you're ready now?  One…"

Together they counted, "…two…THREE!"

Harry had dropped to one knee and pushed off to the side as he had drawn his wand and whispered, _"Protego!"  _Moody's spell rebounded in a flash of red light and hit him square in the chest.  Harry smirked.  

A/N:  For my own easy access of chapter files from any computer, I've created a new yahoo group at the site posted on my bio page.  The group name is "HP_AoF".  I have posted (and will post future) chapter files to be available for download on this site.


	9. Chapter 12 Who Let the Ferrets Out?

Chapter 12.  Who Let the Ferrets Out?

            Harry's good mood hadn't diminished any when he awoke on Sunday morning.  His training with Moody the previous day had gone swimmingly, as soon as Harry bested Moody at his own game.  Moody had rolled with laughter and slapped Harry on the back and said, "Attaboy, Laddy!!  You've got to think one step ahead of the ones you've got to beat!  Ain't none of the ones you'll be fighting, who will play fair!"  He finally must have been convinced now that Harry had at least _some_ wit.  They parried back and forth in short dueling bursts, all the while Moody was reciting platitudes of vigilance and work ethics such as, "Trust no one!" and "Failing to prepare is preparing to fail!"  Harry found the new training pace to be exhilarating and they both lost track of the time until Lupin had stopped by around noon to find in the midst of a staring contest as Harry waited for Moody to go for his wand to signal the beginning of a duel.  

            It was still rather early in the morning and Harry decided to venture downstairs to forage for breakfast.  He passed his mute Uncle in the living room and who was wearing a newspaper on his face as the morning news blared on the television.  

            Harry could hear the newscaster, "In news of the bizarre, last night the London Zoo was broken into and a recently donated colony of ferrets has now been reported missing.  Authorities most likely suspect this to have been a prank…" He nearly snorted as he imagined nicking about 12 ferrets and sending them anonymously to Draco Malfoy to remind that ferret-face of his one sole moment of intellect and grace.   _Malfoy the Amazing Bounding Ferret…Ah, one of the finer memories I possess.  I'll have to remember to make a list in my journal of 'Memories I Intend to Cherish Forever'._  

He actually was snickering as he prepared a bowl of cereal as he heard Dudley begin to whine, "Mum, I don't see why I should have to go with Dad if you don't have to!"

"Aunt Marge has always been your favorite aunt and--"

"She's the only aunt I've ever had!"  

"Irregardless!  She has always been generous to you and you will go with your father.  You need to spend some quality time with him anyway."

"Mu-um! It's a funeral for a _dog!!  She's mad!"  Dudley began eyeing Harry who was trying to eat quickly and get out of the range of the Dudley-Tantrum, "Why doesn't _he_ have to go, too?"_

Petunia looked over at Harry and back at Dudley, "Don't be ridiculous, she is _grieving_, why would we want her to suffer more."  She sniffed and continued on to Dudley in a lower voice as Harry pretended he didn't exist, "And you mind your father.  You're getting to be young man now and you need to watch out for yourself.  There are all sorts of _scarlet women_ and _tarts who might try to corrupt a sweet, innocent boy like you and lord knows what else."  _

Harry was extremely grateful that he had a mouthful of food that prevented him from bursting out into gales of laughter at the thought of _any_ female wanting to do _anything_ to do with 'sweet, innocent Duddydums'.  _Bleargh!!!  He quickly finished his cereal and rinsed the bowl and headed out the door and back upstairs before he burst out with laughter.  _

After he regained his composure from laughing at Dudley's impending "Talk", he thought, 'Well, I guess that is one reason to be thankful for not having parents."  He imagined Sirius trying to be serious and have a discussion on The Talk and shuddered, "And no Godfather."  Then his mind wandered to the thought of Dumbledore trying to step in and chat with him, "Oh, _squick!  Gor Blimey!!"  He then debated for the next hour the pros and cons of attempting to perform his first memory charm on himself.  _

Harry had arrived about two hours before he was to meet with Dumbledore.   Harry had found a spell in the Auror training book to create a magical target on a wall that would rebound spells back at the castor who could then practice blocking, dodging, and countering their own curses and spells.  When Dumbledore arrived a few minutes late, it was with a very cheery mood that he greeted Harry.  

"Hello Harry, I see Alastor has moved you on to the Volley Wall, has he?"

"Er, no sir.  I enchanted the wall.  It was one of the spells in a book you lent me."

Dumbledore was still smiling and really, quite _chipper_. "Well, then, I daresay you will surprise him yet again when he does move you to it.  He's always liked to watch a young trainee who has just learned how to maximize their spellcasting power, suffer from the blows of his own success."

He was still twinkling as he watched Harry disenchant the wall and the glowing target faded off the inside of the shed.  "I have some good news for you, Harry.  Well, I assume you will think it is good news."  

Harry was looking eagerly at him, but still wondered just how good it would have to be to have the man this twinkly.  "Yes?"

"You'll be leaving Privet Drive this Tuesday, Harry.  Myself and Remus shall accompany you."  

It wasn't the windfall of great news Harry had expected; he had finally been getting in the habit of training and living in oblivion at the Dursleys and was a little reluctant to want to start over with a new schedule.  "How will we travel this time?  Will my schedule be changing when I move to Grimmauld Place?

Dumbledore was smiling like the father of newly dropped sprog.  "Mmm, yes Harry, we should be able to portkey you from your home to Hogwarts.   We even went to the trouble of getting clearance for this from the Ministry, though I could have done it without their ever knowing.  However, it will lead anyone trying to figure out where you are for the next month to conclude you are at the castle.  From Hogwarts, we may then take my own, unauthorized portkey from my office to Order Headquarters.  Both have Untraceable Enchantments enabling travel back and forth.  

"Your training schedules will remain the same.  If anything, you may find other members of the Order stopping by Headquarters to offer you help.  It seems, between Nymphadora and Alastor, they have started a bit of a rivalry between themselves.  I believe it all started when Alastor made the mistake of mentioning to Nymphadora and Remus what he wanted you to learn next and she then decided to help you to learn it before you meet with him again.  So Alastor then took to teaching you what Nymphadora had wanted to work on you with.  Ah, so anyways, I think some others who were not able to volunteer to help you regularly are feeling a bit left out.  

"As for where you will be able to work, Ms. Granger and Remus have been putting the finishing touches on a training area.  I think it will work splendidly."  Dumbledore has an outright grin on his face and damned if his blue eyes weren't twinkling like a sequined showgirl in Vegas.  

Dumbledore remained twinkling for the remainder of the afternoon and only Legilimenced for happier emotions such as joy, pride, triumph and victory.  He rotated through these different quests, as Harry would try to identify the quest emotion and then try to repel the probe.  Harry was managing to stall the probing when he would focus in on thoughts and memories that included him and his wand.   Harry would key on the wand in his mind and he would know there was something about it and that there was something he was supposed to do but he was having trouble turning the probe back or regaining control of his own thoughts.  

They ended their training after Harry had focused in on his wand in what had begun as a memory of winning the Quidditch Cup in his third year and then casting a Patronus at Malfoy and his side-thugs.  Harry had gone from the memory of pulling his wand to cast that charm to his memory of casting a Shield charm against Moody the previous day.  The probing ended then and Dumbledore was standing in front of him with his wand out and grinning like a fool.  Harry thought he looked quite mad.

"Do you know what you just did Harry?"

Harry was wondering if someone had been handing out Cheering Charms and perhaps Dumbledore had gotten hit twice so he just shook his head.  

"I didn't stop the spell, Harry.  You repelled me with your mind.  We'll end on that one for today."

Harry was baffled and thought they ought to try it again before he forgot how to do whatever it was he had done.  But Dumbledore pressed on and prepared to leave.

"Now, Harry, I will be seeing you in two days time, around ten o'clock in the morning.  Remus will confirm this with you when you see him tomorrow."

"Sir, is anyone else staying at Headquarters?  Besides Lupin and Hermione, I mean?"

"No one else is there fulltime.  Many come and go throughout the day.  Perhaps you are wondering about the Weasleys?"  

It wasn't why he had asked but now that it was brought up, yes, he was wondering now, so Harry nodded. 

"Well, Molly and Arthur have only Ronald and Virginia to look after and with William being home, they felt they had more than enough fully trained adults in the home to remain there safely.  It may also be, I might imagine, that Molly wants to be available for any other of her children who may want to stop at home."

"Percy."  Harry surmised.

"Yes.  But that's just a guess."  Dumbledore was only slightly less twinkly at this.  

"Oh, yes, and Harry?"  Harry looked back at him, "Order meetings are held weekly now on every Friday night."

The last day and half at Privet Drive flew by as Harry was very much looking forward to being able to attend Order meetings and hear all the news of everything about Voldemort.  As it was, Harry had been getting his news from Lupin when he visited.  Not there was much news.  

There had been no valid sightings or rumblings of Voldemort, any of his remaining Death Eaters, the Dementors, or any of their whereabouts.  They knew his main priority was to locate and regain the nearly dozen supporters that had been captured at the Ministry.  Fudge and the current Ministry was scrambling to stay afloat in a sea of poor press and a deluge of letters-to-the-editor that expressed outrage and declining support for the Ministry in general.  Fudge's latest ploy was to placate the people by contracting with the independent group, the Dark Force Defense League.  The DFDL was going to host regular workshops for the general public in wizarding communities to help them gain confidence and give everyone a feeling of 'doing something'.  Harry recalled that Gilderoy Lockhart had been an honorary member of this group and severely hoped he was no indicator of the competency of the other members in the league.  

Harry was packed and going over his room and making sure he had not forgotten anything when he heard the doorbell ring downstairs followed by the sound of Dumbledore's voice, "Hello, Petunia.  We are here for Harry."

Harry quickly grabbed Hedwig's cage and then realized he had forgotten to look up a shrinking charm for his trunk.  _Errgh!  Maybe..if I don't need to speak incantations out loud, then maybe I don't need to know them?  _

Harry pointed his wand at the trunk and tried, "Shrink!"  Nothing happened.

Harry made something up wildly, "Shrinkus trunko!"  Nothing.

He then heard the sound of his aunt's voice being raised downstairs but couldn't make out what was being said and then realized that perhaps his aunt, Dumbledore and Lupin, were not the kind of group that should be let to wait around and chat up.  He sighed and wished that his trunk wasn't so damn heavy and awkward as he reached down to pick it up with his wand still in his hand.  

To his surprise, his trunk was as light as a feather.  He barely had time to register shock at this when he heard Lupin's voice from downstairs now, "Harry?  Do you need any help?" and made his way out the door and down the stairs.

Harry saw Lupin waiting at the bottom of the stairs.  "Where's Professor--" he looked around and found the living room empty, "and Aunt Petunia?  Where are they?"  This couldn't be good.

Lupin flicked his eyes towards the kitchen door and said, "I think Albus is having a chat with her."  

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it, but he set down the cage and his trunk, pocketed his wand and walked to the kitchen door.

Lupin had barely got out, "Harry, wait-" when Harry had pushed open the door and strode in to see his aunt across the room, facing out the window.  

He looked about the room and skewered Dumbledore on a piercing look of his own as he spoke, "I'll be leaving now, Aunt Petunia."  

Dumbledore gave him a small smile and went past him and said, "I'll get the portkey ready, Harry." as he went out the door.

Harry could have swore he heard his aunt sniff then but figured he must have been wrong since she usually held her head up high when she sniffed and now her chin must have been nearly on her chest.  "I'll, er, be seeing you, then."  He rushed on, "Take care and all and thanks for the clothes."  He was feeling increasingly uncomfortable standing there as if his aunt would actually want to say goodbye, so Harry spun around to leave.  

He only just heard her as she said, "Go on, now." in a low, hoarse voice.

Dumbledore and Lupin were standing in the middle of the living room and waiting patiently.  Dumbledore was holding a woolen sock and Lupin had Hedwig's cage.  Dumbledore looked up as Harry walked in, "All set?  The portkey will activate when the three of us all touch it."

Lupin reached down to grab Harry's trunk and groaned and said, "Yeesh, Harry!  How much stuff did you manage to fit in here?"  

Harry reached to take it from him, expecting it to be as light as before and said with a grin, "You've just got to know how to pack." He wasn't the least bit surprise this time when it felt weightless and figured it all had to do with being confident.   

"Ready?" said Harry as he and Lupin reached to touch the sock.  

He then felt the customary jerk in his navel and the whooshing of traveling.  They then landed with a, _"Thwump!"_ in Dumbledore's office in Hogwarts.  

Harry blinked and looked around.  The office was as it had always been. Fawkes was on his perch, preening himself and gave a soft trill of welcome.   The whirring silver contraptions were all around the room and Harry noticed, with a slight rush of guilt, that even the table and silver things he had flung about the room at the end of last term were now repaired and back in their usual places.  

Harry snuck a glance at Dumbledore, who gave him a wry smile before he looked down and shuffled through some rolls on his desk and said with some amusement, "You're welcome to come by any time, Harry, and blow off some steam.  I can repair just about anything."  

Harry felt himself grow hot and blush with embarrassment with the memory of what he had done.  Lupin just gave him a questioning look with one eyebrow quirked upwards, to which Harry just looked away and mumbled an unintelligible, "Sorry."

Just then, there was the sound of the stone staircase moving to carry someone up to the office and seconds later the door whipped open and in stalked Severus Snape, "Ah--Albus!  Excellent, I--" he stopped as he spotted Harry and Lupin standing off to the side and his eyes narrowed and his hooked nose wrinkled in loathing.  

"Severus!  Everything running smoothly?"  Dumbledore had paused and was looking at the Potions Master over his half-moon glasses.

Snape turned back towards Dumbledore and went on, "Yes, sir, everything is complete.  I was just about to leave you a note.  I am preparing to leave at once."  Snape strode forward and positioned himself with his back towards Harry and Lupin, determined to make sure they knew they were being ignored.

Dumbledore nodded once and gave Snape a very small smile and said, "Very well, Severus.  If you have everything you may need, then, I wish you good luck."

Snape looked a little uncomfortable and said, "I, am not sure when I may return…" Harry and Lupin both watched this vague discussion with curious interest. 

"I understand, Severus.  You know how you may contact me if you need anything.  I suspect, if I have to worry about you, then I will know."

Snape shifted even more, clearly uncomfortable, "Yes.  I'm off then.  Good day."

Dumbledore sighed as he called out to the retreating Snape, "Good day and take care."

Lupin couldn't help himself as he also called out, "Nice talking to you Severus!"  Harry gave at short laugh at the usually mild-mannered and soft-spoken Lupin's sarcasm.  

Dumbledore had the sock out again and was walking around his desk as he pulled out his wand and touched it to the sock and said, _"Portus._  Well then, if we are ready, we may proceed on to Headquarters."  

Lupin and Harry stepped forward to grab on to the wool sock when Lupin stopped and turned to Harry, "I forgot to remind you the first time, pay attention to the feeling of traveling through time and space; it feels the same for apparition, only--"

"-- without the jerk behind the navel." Harry and Lupin chorused the last words together.  When Lupin and Tonks had described apparition to Harry as being just like a portkey, Harry had felt his stomach drop at the thought of having to feel that sickening pull every time he would apparate.  However, they quickly corrected this notion and assured him there was no jerk to pull him along, as he would be using his own power to begin traveling.  

They landed with another, _"Thwump!" in the basement kitchen of Grimmauld Place.    _

_"Crash!!"_

Harry whipped his head towards the sound of plates and silverware clattering to the ground.  

There stood Dobby the house-elf looking woefully down at the mess by his feet.  A smile broke out on Harry's face.  "Dobby!  When did you get here?"

Dobby looked up at Harry with watery eyes and then looked down as he said, "Dobby has come to serve Harry Potter, sir.  I is an elf of the Order of the Phoenix now."

Harry cocked his head to the side and asked, "You left Hogwarts?"

Dobby shook his head, "No, Harry Potter, sir.  No, I was …and Winky was…" he was rocking back and forth now and obviously was conflicted with the answer to this questions.

Professor Dumbledore, however, stepped in and explained to Harry, "It seems, that when Headmistress Umbridge found there was an elf earning wages, she was not very happy and she saw fit to dismiss him.  She also happened upon another elf you know, Winky. " Harry turned and saw for the first time, Winky the house elf standing on a stool by the stove and stirring a pot, looking the best she had since she had been given clothes from Barty Crouch Sr.  "Who was, shall we say," Dumbledore's voice dropped to a whisper, "_in an unfit state_ and was also dismissed.  So, they left the school and Dobby managed to find me and he and Winky joined me when I was, mmm, shall we say, away?  They were a great help to me.  Winky, it seems, was took especially well to the change from working in a large kitchen such as Hogwarts, to working for just me.  However, after my return to duties as Headmaster, I was no longer in need of help, but the Order, was."

Dobby was looking at Harry with adoration and said, "Dobby is not wanting to leave Hogwarts where he sees and helps Harry Potter. But Professor Dumbledore is telling Dobby, that Harry Potter is to be living here.  So, I is working for Harry Potter, now."  He was grinning as only as house elf could as he told this to Harry.

Harry just shook his head and sighed as he smiled and said, "Well Dobby, I am glad you are here and Winky, too.  I hope you like it here."

Dobby beamed.

The door to the kitchen then opened and Hermione stopped as she spotted the new arrivals, "Oh! You're here already!  Harry, how are you?"  She was smiling as she came to give Harry a hug.  She pulled back and looked at Dobby and Winky, "Isn't it wonderful?  Winky is doing so well here!  I think she is really starting to _enjoy_ her freedom!" 

Harry knew better than to argue with Hermione about house elves so he just nodded.  

"Well, Harry, are you ready for the grand tour?"  Lupin had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke.  Harry looked around at Hermione and Professor Dumbledore and they each had the same glint in their eyes.  

"Tour?  Has it changed so much I won't be able to find me way about?" 

Each of them broke into a smile at this and they each seemed about to comment when the door opened again, "Hermione, don't forget the—" 

It was Tonks; she was leaning through the doorway and had stopped as she spotted the group.  "Well what are you all waiting for?  Come on!!"  Tonks beckoned them upstairs,  "Wait!! The blindfold!!  Who's got one?"

Harry was quite bewildered but soon realized as Hermione turned towards him with a sash of fabric in her hand that he was to be the one to get blindfolded.  He took a step back and held up his hands, "Now hold on!! Who says there needs to be a blindfold?  And why me?"  

He was sputtering as Hermione continued to advance on him wearing an evil grin, "C'mon Harry, don't you trust us?"

Lupin laughed and Tonks was giggling by the door.  

Harry wasn't happy with the seeming lack of support. "Don't make he hex you." he warned as he pulled his wand and pointed it at Hermione, who only smiled more as he took another step back and hit the wall.  

They were a good distance away from the others now and Hermione stopped and looked down at the sash in her hand and back up at Harry with a look of pure innocence and sweetness, "Please?  Harry, it's a surprise.  I promise you'll like it."

Harry looked skeptical and wasn't buying this a bit.  Then again, the way Hermione was batting her eyes at him and acting all sweet was making him feel he might want to do whatever she wanted.  "You, er, _promise_ I will like it?"  

She nodded eagerly.

He looked over to see Professor Dumbledore and Lupin trying not to watch but clearly amused at the exchange.  "And the rest of you are all in on this?"

Lupin looked up, "You'll like it."  He made a cross over his heart as he added solemnly, "Marauder's Honor."  

Harry knew he was beat and sighed as Hermione quickly fixed the sash over his glasses to completely obscure his sight.  She then led Harry out the door and up the stairs by his arm as he mumbled under his breath, "_'Marauder's honor'_… with a motto like 'I solemnly swear I'm up to no good.' he expects me to trust _that?"  _


	10. Chapter 13 A Room of One's Own

Chapter 13. A Room of One's Own

"This doesn't involve one of Hagrid's pets does it?"

Harry could _feel Hermione roll her eyes as she led him up to the top floor of Grimmauld Place.  He sniffed, "It doesn't smell like Buckbeak anymore."  Is that a good thing?"_

He could hear Hermione smiling as she answered, "Yes, Buckbeak is back to where he ought to be: free and roaming about."

Lupin explained, "You see, when Hagrid fled the school, Dumbledore had him stay here for a stretch.  And well, he was a right bit tore up about being forced to flee and all but as soon as Sirius saw him, he remembered your story of how Hagrid had been so attached to Buckbeak.  He brought him up here and the two were reunited and Hagrid didn't stop sobbing for days."  Harry was smiling at the thought of Hagrid and 'Beaky'.  "So anyway, when all was clear for Hagrid to leave, he took Buckbeak with him and took him wherever it is hippogriffs go.  Here we are."

They had stopped walking down the end of a long hall and Harry figured they had already passed the room where Buckbeak had been kept.  He had not ever ventured this far down the hall.  He heard a door open and felt Hermione turn him to his left as she fiddled with is blindfold. 

"Hold on Hermione," Lupin spoke, "let's explain what he's about to see.  You see Harry, --"

"Not really."  Harry cut in.

Lupin cleared his throat, "So anyway, It was all really Hermione's idea.  You s--, well, er, after Christmas holidays she made a suggestion to me to try to suggest to Sirius that he take on a project to sort of, redo, the house."

Hermione cut in, "You remember how happy he was when we were all here for holidays and he was cleaning and decorating and, well, happy?  I thought it might do him good to have a project and to _do something."  _

"Yes, well, he certainly did take to it.  Especially after he found out there were withdrawals being made in the Black Family vault at Gringotts.  He knew it had to Bellatrix and so he had all the money he swore to never touch, transferred to his own vault.  Bill Weasley tipped him off to a new service at Gringotts-- a sort of credit voucher system for people who can't get out and use Owl Order a lot.  Well, once Sirius got hooked up with that, he went all out and was desperate to spend every Knut of his parents' in an effort to 'lighten the Black House' as he put it."

Harry couldn't fathom what this may mean, "So he, erm, spent a lot of time redecorating did he?"

Tonks chipped in helpfully, "Oh not just _redecorate_; he _remodeled!  _He demolished!_  He was rebuilding--didn't get it all done but it's worked out quite well for us now.  Oh let him see!"  Harry could hear her bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation._

"Er, what exactly am I about to see?"

"Well," Lupin guided Harry carefully forward a few steps and though a doorway, "Sirius wanted to give you something.  He wanted to make sure you knew you always had someplace to go and someplace you could always call your own.  He, er, was never very happy when he lived here and I know he hated being reminded of his childhood spent here.  That's why he wanted to tear down and toss everything that was and replace it.  Most of all though, he hated _his_ room--the one he had growing up.  He said it held too many bad memories.  He actually gutted it way back last summer.  But when he started his project after the holidays and wanted to give you your own room, he chose his own.  I think he felt _someone should be able to live in it and be happy.  We are at the room he made for you, Harry."  _

Hermione slipped off the fabric sash and Harry fluttered open his eyes.  

Harry blinked a few times.  It looked…very…Gryffindor.  Red.  Gold.  Everything was Gryffindor red and gold.  For a moment he thought it was the Gryffindor Common Room.  There were two squashy armchairs with a chess table between them over by a wide fireplace; a small sofa on the other side of the fire, and the rugs had the red and gold theme, too.  He was actually half-thinking that perhaps Sirius had _raided_ the Gryffindor Common Room and that there would be some chairs, a sofa and some rugs missing when he returned.  Harry hadn't moved a muscle.  He was now staring at the bed; a _huge bed -- twice the width of even his dormitory bed.  It was a four-poster with velvet hangings on each corner and at the head in, what else, Gryffindor red.  There was even a Gryffindor crest in the center of the hangings at the head of the bed.  Harry thought the bed wouldn't even __fit into his own smallest bedroom on Privet Drive.  Then Harry spotted his own trunk with which he had just arrived with, already set upon the foot bench at the end of the bed; he could see his own initials, "H.P" on it.  __Must have been Dobby, he thought._

His eyes scanned the room to take it all in: rich dark wood trim, a large wardrobe, shelves and shelves of books….   He was, dumbstruck.  _It's so much.  For me?  The idea that Sirius would spend so much time and effort, or even money, on something to make Harry feel like he had someplace 'to call his own'--even the notion that he _had_ a place to call his own!  _Too much_.  _It's a far cry from the cupboard under the stairs_.  He could barely move his eyes from one thing to the next to see the entire room.  _

A soft, familiar hoot from his right made him turn to see Hedwig on a perch by an open window.  "She just arrived this morning.  Knew right where to go."  Hermione whispered to Harry.  

Tonks, not one for extended periods of non-excitement, broke the reverent silence with, "So?  What do you think?  I tried to tell Sirius you would want Slytherin colors just to be different but he didn't believe me."

Harry felt that his mouth was a little dry and he realized it must have been hanging open the entire time.  He snapped it shut.  "Er.  Well."  It was back to hanging open again.

"You think that means he likes it?"  Tonks was asking Lupin to interpret Harry's eloquent reply.

"Why don't we give him a few moments to take it all in."  Harry was barely cognizant of Lupin steering Tonks back into the hall.  

The thoughts in Harry's head were swimming and were just beginning to settle to a pace where he could think one at a time.  He was feeling a bit, overwhelmed.  _This room, it seems, fit for someone who is to defeat a Dark Lord.  Hmm, I think I want my cupboard back.  _

"Harry?"  Hermione was the only one remaining in the room now with Harry.  

"It's so _much; so, __opulent.  _Too much."_  The awe was apparent in his voice._

"Oh Harry, he wanted to give you something you deserve."

"I don't want to deserve this much."  He meant it.  It was one thing to be preparing to fight Voldemort for a chance to live his own life; a chance to leave his current half-life and the need to return to the Dursleys each year.  But this, this meant _more--something else.  This was the room for someone with a life he wasn't meant to enjoy.  _

Hermione turned to face him fully and was searching his face to read him, "Harry, you deserve this."

He shook his head, "I don't--"

"Sirius deserves this!  He wanted you to be happy in here--he _still_ wants to see you happy.  He deserves to be able to try to make you happy.  And you deserve to have people who care about you and want to make you happy."  She reached out and placed her hand on his arm for a brief moment before turning to leave him alone.  

_Ergh!  I feel like I keep taking one step forward and two steps back!  Harry was sitting on the foot bench at the end of his bed and staring into the crackling fire.  __I know what I am supposed to do, but I can't help but resent the damned fact that I have to do it!  I need to get over this.  Hermione's right, I need to feel I deserve this.  He had taken a walk through the room and sat down to think before anyone came back in to ask him how he liked it.  With his elbows on his knees, he cradled his head in his hands.  _

"May I come in, Harry?"  The sound of Professor Dumbledore's voice broke Harry's train of non-existent thought.  Harry stood up and gestured for him to come in.  

Professor Dumbledore looked about and smiled at Harry, "Quite Gryffindor, isn't it?  Wait until you see the rest of the house; it doesn't stop here.  Not a single serpent-head door knob remains."

Harry thought that seeing the rest of the newly redone house might be just what he needed to not feel like this room was such an extreme.  He nodded and gestured towards the door and that they might head out.

There was red and gold everywhere.  The hall runners were red and gold weaves.  The door handles were either plain brass or a lion's head.  Even the wallpapers were now red and gold.  Dumbledore stopped at the entrance to where Buckbeak had stayed; the room that had belonged to Sirius's mother.  "Now, this is going to look a little different."  He pushed open the door and stood aside to let Harry in.  

His jaw dropped yet again as he surveyed a vastly open hall.  What had been the main room of the master en suite was now a great long hall that ran, what must have been, the entire length of the house.  

"Sirius decided to, er, completely redo both his parents' rooms and his brother's.  And well, I think it was rather cathartic for him and he really wanted to start from scratch."  Harry could see that the walls between the rooms had all been tore down and that indeed, the room _was the entire length of the house.  _

"Sirius never got to complete his plans for this area.  In fact, I am not sure he had any plans for it.  Nonetheless, Remus and Ms. Granger have put in quite a bit of work to make this space suitable for use for training.  Even Nymphadora and Dobby spent a good number of hours helping out."   Harry could see that the floors had all recently been polished and that much of the walls had recently been replastered.  He walked into the room and his footsteps echoed across the floor.  There was a fireplace on each the near wall and the wall at the end of the hall; they would have been for two separate rooms originally.  

"Wow.  Wow.  This is spacious."  Harry felt that about summed it up.

"Yes, we still have to add the cushioning charms if you want them on the walls or floor anywhere.  But it's more than enough space for a group to train in.  I am sure Ms. Granger will be eager to attend your sessions with you; she would be very disappointed to miss out on an opportunity to learn."  

Harry smiled at this understatement.  "Yes, she would most definitely be, _disappointed_.  So, were all the rooms redone then?"

Dumbledore motioned to walk further along into the hall and down the room towards another door that opened back into the hallway.  "Just about.  Dobby has been helping anytime he sees anyone else working on the house."  Dumbledore led the way back down the stairs and to the drawing room, which was, coincidently, all red and gold.  Hermione, Lupin and Tonks were all sitting at the table as Harry and Dumbledore walked in.  "The only two real vestiges of the former house are the portrait in the entrance hall and the tapestry."  Dumbledore motioned towards the offending item on the wall across the room.  "I've tried to unstick them myself, alas, to no avail." 

The remainder of the morning involved a tour of the new improved Grimmauld Place.  The four of them ate lunch in the drawing room and before Dumbledore had to depart he beckoned Harry to follow him out the drawing room and down the end of the hall to another room Harry had never seen inside.  "This was a library and the first room Sirius used to stuff unwanted things into.  You probably never saw it.  But it's all cleared out now, except for the books.   Sirius furnished it for use as my office when I had to leave Hogwarts.  I still may occasionally use it for a private chat, but it is free for use to anyone.  I daresay, Ms. Granger has nearly made it her home, as she's been tearing through several old tomes with alarming speed."  

Dumbledore led Harry into the room that was lined with bookshelves.  It had a large desk in the center, a small circular table on one side with chairs around it and a pair of armchairs over by a fireplace, to which, Dumbledore ushered Harry to have a seat.  "Harry, I wish to speak with you about your joining the Order."  Harry's heart skipped a beat as he dreaded that he would be told he was still too young and would have to wait.  "Now, I have not told anyone else that you will be officially a member.  Remus has been told to answer your questions about what may be going on, but as you know, there hasn't been much at all going on.  I have my reasons for this."  Dumbledore templed hands beneath his chin as he spoke, "I suspect there to be some resistance to your induction--based upon your age, solely."

"From whom?"  Harry wondered.

Dumbledore sighed before answering, "Well, the people who care most about you for one.  Molly and Arthur will surely wish you to remain untroubled with the burdens of the Order.  Others perhaps who don't know you as well, may think you can't possibly know what you are getting yourself into."  He held up his hand to forestall Harry from commenting.  "However, you will join.  Do not fear.  In fact, I think it may be best if there is some resistance.  For induction, Order members are generally admitted with unanimous approval.  If, however, there is dissent, then an alternate method of induction is followed."

"What alternate method?"

"Well," Dumbledore laughed, "we won't know until it happens you see, but, I want to say this:  we will likely need to cement our allies who will support your induction.  I am talking about choosing a few current members to vouch for you and to support you completely, who will then be able to persuade others with their influence, on your behalf.  Harry, this is completely up to you, but I want you to consider that we tell these people the truth; the entire truth--about the prophecy."

Without even hesitating, Harry said, "Lupin.  He should know."

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, I figured you would want to include him."

Harry was wracking his brain, going through the members of the Order thinking who might support him and whom he might stand to know the prophecy.  "Moody?  He might, well, he wouldn't treat me any different because of it and I think he'd vouch for me then?"  

Dumbledore nodded again, "Yes, I think Alastor would indeed support you."  

Harry was still thinking.  "How will we tell them?  Will you?"

"I can use my pensieve again to show the prophecy to them.  I will have to explain plenty about my own actions and why I chose to tell only I what I did.  But, I believe you may make a case for yourself, as well.  You don't have to decide yet, in fact, we will wait until after this Friday to see how it goes.  I just want you to be prepared and to think about it."  

The rest of the afternoon had Lupin and Tonks discussing and explaining more tedious points on apparition to Harry and Hermione in the drawing room.  Harry was almost nodding off as Lupin described the differences between precognitive apparition and coordinate-based apparition when he wondered aloud, "Where are we going to actually practice this?  Here?"

Lupin stopped lecturing and even Tonks seemed to snap out of her daze.  Hermione was the one, though, who took to answer Harry's question, "Well, we may learn precognitive apparition here in Grimmauld Place.  We can apparate from one place to another within the house.  I suppose once we have mastered that, then we might try to go someplace outside of here that we know about.  No one can apparate back into here though, unless Dumbledore has given him or her the coordinates, to enable them to _know_ the location.  I suppose, he might give us those coordinates, seeing as, it would really be testing our coordinate-based skills because the Fidelius prevents precognitive recognition of the location." 

Harry thought a simple 'We'll practice here.' would have sufficed, but he pressed on, "So, _when_ do we start to try this?"  He could already see Hermione looked reprovingly at him, and so he went on, "I mean, this is all well and good and I can read and hear about this, but well, can't we just give it a try and see what happens?"

"Harry! You could get splinched!"

The idea of sitting around and discussing the time/space ratios of relativity was not appealing to Harry in the least, "Yeah, what _exactly is 'splinching' and how does it happen? There's something I'd like to know!"_

Tonks perked up and piped in, "Ooh!  That's where someone screws up and leaves a body part or two behind on maybe even sends a few parts to one place and the rest to another.  Or, maybe they've landed on the exact spot as another person at the exact same time-- now that takes talent!  You see, if you are apparating to one particular spot and there is another person near where you are planning to appear, you will be able to realize this before you pop in and adjust a little over to avoid them.  But if someone else is apparating in, just like you, and you both happen to land at the same time in the same spot, then you might be splinchmelded or splinchswapped."

Harry had to ask, "What's--"

"Splinchmelded?  That's when two people's bodies merge in an unnatural way and become one body.  It usually looks like a confused tangle of limbs and the people are usually quite cross and cursing at each other--rather like a runespoor.  You could also meld with another object, but I've never seen that one.  Splinchswapped is where they are still two separate bodies but they may have swapped up a few limbs and such-- more like a hippogriff."

These didn't exactly sound pleasant to Harry, but it was certainly more exciting, "And these are all, correctable conditions?"

Lupin assured him, "Of course, in fact, it's even easier now, I hear.  You used to have to go to St. Mungos for desplinching via transfigurative restoration and a restorative draught that takes a long while to have prepared.   But now, I heard someone say they've improved the restorative draught to only require an extract of mandrake root instead of a fresh cutting of the root.   So you can now use a stock potion instead of waiting for the fresh roots to be available; quite simple really.  It's helped them cut days off their hex removal and such, as well."

"Well, then what do we have to lose to try it out?  Just a first try--like from here to there."  Harry gestured from himself to the other side of the table.  

Lupin and Tonks exchanged a look before Hermione said briskly, "Harry, if you don't understand _how _to do it, then you'll fail for sure."

A smile grew on Harry's face as he recalled McGonagall explaining the difference between his own learning style and Hermione's.  He turned to face her and said, "Flutter five Galleons I can do it before you can."

Hermione's eyes grew wide and Harry could the conflicting struggle within her: to lecture and make sure Harry didn't hurt himself or to be competitive and prove she was better.

Tonks clapped in glee at the challenge.  Lupin provided the voice of calm, "Now, let's not be hasty here.  Harry, if you feel you are ready to give it a go, then you may try.  Hermione, you are under no obligation to try it if you don't--"

"I'll do it."  She had a steely look in her eyes and had already stood up and pushed her chair back away.  

Harry couldn't help but smirk and fell just a tad bit guilty for provoking her--a task usually reserved for Ron.  "Hey, I don't mean right this second.  I just meant, well, maybe tomorrow.  It's already been a long afternoon; I don't fancy a desplinching today."  He hoped he hadn't irked Hermione too much, but she did appear to be relieved at hearing this.  

"Well, "Lupin checked his watch and stood up, "it has been a long afternoon.  If you want to try it tomorrow, then all right.  I'm going to head up for a kip before dinner."  He looked at Tonks, "You sticking around?"  

"Oh yes, it's my last week off of work.  I be back to full time next week, so I'll stay around now as much as I can."  She whispered conspiratorially to Harry, "I've got to help you learn a Perimeter Charm-- I heard you already had wand drawing?"  She nudged him as he smiled, "Heard you got old Moody with his own spell!"  

Hermione made to head out the room before Tonks called out to her, "Wait!  Are these rooms safe for inhabitation now?"  She had run out to the hall and gestured across the hall from the drawing room to the bedrooms that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had used previously.  

Hermione stopped and answered, "Yes, I noticed Winky must have already scrubbed them clean and even dressed the beds."  

Harry saw Tonks shrug and pick a room and go in.  He turned and saw Hermione heading to go back upstairs and he ran and caught up to her.  "You're not ticked at me, are you?"

She bustled ahead of him and started up the stairs, "Nope."

"Really? Cuz you're acting just like you do when Ron has gone off and said or done something daft."  

She kept walking and mumbled something about, "...always being daft…"

Harry had to speed up to keep up with her and she topped the stairs and strode off down the hall.  "Hermione!  What-- what is it?  What's wrong?"

She stopped and turned around and had her head tilted slightly to the side as she considered Harry.  "Ron's never noticed that I've been cross with him."

"Well, no, he wouldn't, it such a common occurrence, really."  Harry took a step towards her and held out his hands apologetically, "I wasn't trying to rush you or nettle you about beginning to apparate.  I was just…_bored."  He took another step forward, "I just was cheesed off with _hearing_ about it and would rather, __do something, you know?"  _

Hermione's face softened and she smiled forgivingly, "I know.  But, since you're the one who wants to do this tomorrow, you're going to be revising notes with me tonight after dinner.  And I want to hear all about everything else you've been learning."  

She stopped outside the door just before the one to Harry's new room and Harry inquired, "Why are you staying up here now?"

"Oh, when we were working in the training hall to clear away the remaining bits of walls and such, plaster was falling from the ceilings of the rooms below.  So I've been staying up here."  Her eyes flickered over just a few feet to the door to Harry's room.  "Is that okay?"  

Harry looked at his door and then back again.  "Oh, yeah.  Sure."  He backed away but stopped, "So, when is dinner?  I mean, is there a time now, or…?"

Hermione, he wasn't sure when she had lost any, but, seemed to gain some composure and said, "Well, you can go to the kitchen anytime.  We've all still been eating down there.  I like to visit with Dobby and Winky and Remus eats there, too.  We've usually been going about seven.  I'll make sure not to forget you."  She smiled and turned into her room and left Harry standing alone in the hall.  

Harry walked into his room _(his!!) _and shut the door behind him.  The simple solace of being alone offered him a sense of relief that he hadn't known he was craving.  He had spent several hours today in the presence of Lupin, Tonks and Hermione, and even Dumbledore for most of the morning.  Harry had been accustomed to only spending a few hours a day socializing (training, really) with people before returning to be the invisible resident of Number Four.  

It wasn't that he disliked the people around him, not at all.  They were some of his favorite people and there was a casual ease with which Lupin, Tonks, Hermione and himself all got along.  Unfortunately, it was this casualness and ease of everyone around him that sometimes would suddenly cause him to feel irritable.  If his mind happened to wander into a memory of Sirius and a moment of grief, or perhaps, if he fell into a mental fit of spite towards fate and the prophecy that haunted him, then he would suddenly feel irritated and resentful at the casual way they all seemed to be going on with their lives.  He knew it was just plain stupid and that they were not to blame and that, in fact, Lupin was mourning Sirius just as much, if not more, than Harry.  Lupin just always appeared to be on an even keel.  Tonks, he couldn't blame her; she was _always_ chipper.  Hermione, well, she did seem to sense these changes in Harry's mood but her solution was to try to be more cheerful and just smile sympathetically at him.  He knew she meant well, but it really wasn't helping much.  

He didn't want to cheer up.  He didn't want to forget.  He couldn't forget: he knew he had to remember and to keep himself motivated.  But what he really wanted was to _feel.  He couldn't explain it, nor understand it, but he felt *it* inside of him, reaching and stretching to fill him up -- to consume him and to envelope him.   It was just a feeling, _a want._  He didn't understand it at all.  All he knew now, he was glad to be alone.  _

Harry walked around his room, looking over the many books on the different shelves and seeing the desk on the other side of the bad that was stocked with parchment, quills and ink and his own Gryffindor wax seal.  Harry paused when he looked out the window over the desk; it was a breathtakingly beautiful view of the countryside and it most definitely did not belong outside his window in the middle of London.  The window on the other side of the wardrobe, on the same wall, held the same view.  He walked over to the windows on the wall with the fireplace; both of these had views of the street below: Grimmauld Place.  

Well, now that he thought about it, he did recall Numbers 11 and 13 being directly on either side of Number 12.  _It must be magic.  Enchanted, most likely.  He had never really thought about it last summer, but it made sense.  Harry walked over and sat on the small sofa by the fireplace, but stretched out so he could look over the back of the sofa, and out at the enchanted view.  It was really a spectacular sight, in fact he could feel it calming him and soothing him, rather like the voices he still heard made him feel.   _

The voices were still with him, always whispering whenever he would listen to see if there were there.  They whispered in his ear each night as he would drift off to sleep, they would guide him through dreamless nights, safe within an comforting cocoon, and they could be heard, even now, as he sat alone, gazing out the enchanted window.  

He wasn't sure when he had drifted off to sleep but he was sure awake when he heard pounding on his door and Hermione calling him for dinner.  Dinner was an uneventful affair.  

Afterwards, Hermione made Harry bring out into the drawing room, all the books Dumbledore had lent him, so that she could look at them.  Harry was showing her some of the better things he had picked up from the books and had had to remind her that she had wanted to go over apparition notes yet that night.  As she pulled out and perused her several rolls of notes on the subject, Harry began to wonder if he really was ready to try apparition the next day.

*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *

Author's note:  My inspiration for the view out Harry's window can be viewed on the website on my bio profile.  I have a Yahoo group, HP_AoF, where I also post my chapters and if you join the group and view the "Photos" file, you can see the photograph of the view.  


	11. Chapter 14 Sudden Occurrences

Chapter 14.  Sudden Occurrences

But it was too late now.  He had gone and opened his big mouth and here he was standing in the middle of the practice hall with Hermione, Lupin, and Tonks gathered off by the wall as Harry was supposed to be concentrating in order to attempt his first apparition.   He couldn't stop thinking about what a stupid thing it was to try to 'clear one's mind'.  He was hoping to relax and just will himself to *appear* approximately five feet over.  (Hopefully with all bodily parts intact.) 

_Concentrate…  No--Focus…  On what?  …Disappearing…dissolving…_  He closed his eyes to better focus and in his mind's eye, he could still see the other three standing off against the wall, watching him eagerly.  He could still see Hermione worrying her lower lip as she watched.  He sent a surge of concentrated thought towards directing his magic towards himself and in willing himself to disapparate.

Suddenly, in his mind's eye he was right in front of Hermione. His eyes flew open as he heard a gasp from right in front of him.

He blinked a few times before realizing where he was now and as he focused on Hermione's astounded face, her dropped jaw and her eyes grew wide in disbelief.

"Well!"  Lupin was smiling at Harry now with an impressed look, " I'd say that wasn't bad for a first time!" 

Tonks turned on Lupin then and nearly shouted, "Wasn't bad?!?  _Wasn't bad???!!!!_  Are you _mad???_  That was excellent!! Did you _hear_ him?? He barely made a pop!! And on the _first try!_ That's _incredible!_ "  She looked at Harry now and shook her head, "You're a natural, Harry.  Most wizards have to _throw_ themselves into apparition at first and then have to learn how to control it and not cause excessive air displacement so they don't scare the jeepers out of people when they come and go.  

"Only the best ever achieve soundless apparition-- it takes a great deal of power, discipline and usually practice.  But I'd say, you could do it once you work it out.  Wow."  She was walking around Harry, checking that all parts were intact, and still shaking her head.  "I mean, I don't think even I make less noise than you just did.  Don't you think Remus?"

Lupin was nodding, "Yes.  It is excellent.  Actually, I was afraid you might have a bit of a snag getting the hang of it.  I remember it took your mum over a week to finally get her first apparition when we were learned in our seventh year."

Harry cocked his head to the side and asked, "But what about my dad?  Did he have any trouble?"

Lupin looked dubious and shook his head, "Oh no." He laughed, "We had all been messing around and apparating from our fifth year on whenever we left the grounds.  Popping in and out of places in Hogsmead and then into the Forest if we had to make a run for it.  Between knowing how to apparate, knowing all the secret entrances and the rest of them being able to transform, we managed to go just about everywhere and anywhere."

Lupin saw Hermione had turned towards him and was frowning at him so he quickly added, "But, that was of course wrong and reckless and…I definitely do not recommend it."  He considered that for a second and then added, "But I was always the conservative one.  Your father and Sirius would have for sure encouraged it."

At this, Hermione let out a gasp of shock and disapproval. Tonks was snickering and Harry had a smile.

"But again, not recommended.  Nope, not at all.  Definitely not a good idea."  Lupin looked sheepish as he ended.  

Harry decided to cut Hermione off before she could say something and asked, "Can I try it again?  I think I was distracted thinking about you all watching me over here.  I think I know what to do." 

Harry had disapparated and apparated several different times now with increasing accuracy in his reappearance location.  The last one he did was to apparate down to the far end of the hall, pick up a book off the fireplace mantle and disapparate with the book and reappear back by the others with the book.   Tonks and Lupin were visibly enthusiastic with Harry's success.  However, when Harry looked expectantly at Hermione and asked, "You ready to go next?"  She seemed to shrink and suggested that perhaps they should break for lunch first.  

Tonks chatted away excitedly to Harry as they all made they way down to the kitchens for lunch.  "See, most people learn by doing this thing were you like, _throw_ or _jump_ into it.  Kind of like a leap that makes you feel like the momentum your gathering to move physically will translate into the magical momentum to create the time and space displacement.  It works; it's how I learned.  I first got it by jumping up out of my chair and trying to avoid being nipped by a Venomous Tentacula.  It took me two weeks into Auror training to break the need to _jump_ into disapparition.  It's one of the keys to passing Stealth and Tracking to master a standstill disapparition and, of course, it helps to have superb control to keep the sound displacement down, as well."

She continued chatting incessantly throughout lunch and Harry wondered when she had ever paused to take a bite to eat.  "Remember how Fred and George were always cracking in and out about here last summer?  Everyone could hear them come and go a room away!  But they were always in a hurry, and oh, it is hard to not want to hurry up sometimes, but it's the discipline to control yourself and your magic that's key.  I was real bad at that until I learned I was a Metamorphamagus; that really helped me to learn to control self-applied magic.  But I bet you'll be great-- you're already better than I was when I first started.  

"I've seen Dumbledore and he makes just barely the softest _'poof'_--of course now, he is great.  But, really Harry, you must have a fair amount of power to be able to do so well.  Damn.  We should work on apparating while dueling next-- I can't wait to see the look on Old Moody's face when you pull _that_ one on him!!"

After lunch, Lupin suggested that Tonks and Harry go to work on their dueling and He would work with Hermione on her apparition.  Harry had no time to reply as an overly enthusiastic Tonks yanked him up the stairs.  

Harry and Tonks went back and forth all afternoon as she demonstrated how disapparition could be used in lieu of shielding or dodging spells.  She explained the strategies of reappearing to gain a position of advantage and surprise over an opponent.  Tonks also showed him what it felt to have an anti-apparition jinx placed on him.  After she had demonstrated a few of these different things and Harry had tried them all to get a feel for them, they became engaged in a jinxing duel where they were usually trying o disapparate out of oncoming spells.  They began to use a rotating combination of shields, dodges, and disapparition to avoid each other's jinxes.  

The last duel ended with Harry finally besting Tonks by whispering, without her knowledge, the same anti-apparition jinx he had heard her say just hours before, and then sending an overly obvious Jelly Legs Jinx at her.  When she saw the jinx head her way, she tried to disapparate out of the way but was held in place by the first jinx and hit straight on with the Jelly Legs.  Harry then took advantage of her surprise, stunned her, bound her and summoned her wand.  

  He waited and watched her for a moment as he caught his breath and then revived her.  He let her struggle for a moment and realize she was bound and wandless before she finally whined, "Damn, your stunners are getting stronger, I didn't even wake from that one.  I need a rest--if you can beat me then I am obviously not at full strength."  She smirked at him as she said this. 

"Obviously."  He replied as he waved away the conjured ropes and tossed her back her wand.  They headed over to where Hermione and Lupin were sitting on the floor against a wall and had been watching the dueling.  

Lupin smiled as they approached, "I think I need to call it a day: you two are exhausting just to watch."  

Hermione had gotten up and was heading out the door as Tonks called after her to wait up and then caught up to her on her way out.  

Harry watched them leave, _girls_, he thought.  He looked back at Lupin and asked, "So?  How'd she do?"  He was figuring Hermione didn't want to show off her apparition skills until they were impeccably perfect.  

*        *        *        *

Harry had been more than a little shocked to hear Lupin say that Hermione had not been able to disapparate at all yet.  Hermione was always been the first to do everything and he imagined she was feeling a little down about it.  

He was in his room now had just finished polishing off McGonagall's essay for the next day.  He looked over at the clock by the nightstand and saw it was after seven-thirty and no one had stopped by to grab him for dinner.  He stretched, a little stiff from the extended workout with Tonks that afternoon, and after a brief glance out the enchanted window, headed out the room to go down to the kitchen.  

He had stopped at Hermione's door and gave a soft knock, but moved on, grumbling, when he received no answer.  His irritation that she went to dinner without him disappeared when he entered the kitchen to find only Lupin and Dobby.  "Where is everyone else?" he asked as he pulled out a chair across from Lupin and sat down.  

Dobby hovered a plate of food down in front of Harry as Lupin swallowed and then answered, "I think, that they said they would be having a girl's only chat and dinner in one of the rooms."

"Oh."  Harry mumbled around a mouthful of chicken and ham pie.  

After dinner, Harry returned to his room, grabbed his Charms assignment and some books to complete it and then headed down to the drawing room.  He settled himself in front of the large fire on the floor and spread out the books before him.  After only two days, he was really starting to like the New Grimmauld Place.  It really did feel like a great big old version of Gryffindor Tower, but with several fewer people and considerably less noise.  

Harry was just taking notes from _Defensive Magic to Avoid Death_ describing the requirements for application and limitations of Disillusionment Charms when he heard someone plop down onto one of the sofas be side him.  

He turned and looked up to see a grinning Hermione with a lapful of books, "Hi!" she said brightly.  

Harry was wary, "Why are you grinning?"  

Her grin only grew bigger, "Because, I am so pleased to see you studying.  Speaking of which, what are you working on?"  

"Charms.  Hey, can I see your assignments list?"  he asked as he adjusted to sit up.  

She ruffled through a book with several sheets of parchment stuck in between the pages and finally pulled out the piece she wanted, "Here it is.  Why do you ask?" 

Harry answered as he took the parchment from her, "Oh, I've been wondering if they might all be different this year.  Like for each person or something."  He scanned her list of courses and summer assignments and found that their Charms work was the same but that, Potions, was indeed, different.  Hermione's Potions essays were:  _"Discuss the biochemical mechanism of action of mind-altering potions and how they are utilized by modern Healers.  Theorize and discuss other potential applications for these potions."_  and _"Discuss and explain why and when potions are better suited to counter magical spells, curse, hexes, etc than counter spells."_  

"Hmm, same for Charms but definitely different for Potions.  Snape mustn't want us to be able to work on it together.  Probably did it on purpose."  Harry said as he handed back the parchment.

Hermione looked at him reprovingly as she spread out her own books on the floor next to Harry, "Not necessarily.  Alicia told me last year that in NEWT Potions you are assigned to a group of about four people and you are stuck in these groups for the next two years."  She added thoughtfully, "It probably means we will be in different groups, though."  Harry frowned at this idea.

Hermione continued, "Really, considering what the Sorting Hat had to say last year about uniting the houses and all, I think it's a good idea to mix up people.  I mean, I assume since in NEWTs course all four houses meet together for class and that there are about four people to a group, then there would be one from each house in a group-- approximately." 

Harry was really not liking the idea of possibly getting stuck working with Malfoy for two straight years.  "Mmm."  was all he managed to say.  

They had been working steadily on their Charms essays for a while.  (Hermione had been just a tad jealous that Harry could offer first hand testimony of how it felt to have a Disillusionment Charm placed upon him.)  Lupin had just popped his head in to say he was turning in for the night.

Harry dropped his quill down and stretched out his hand and wrist that was getting a little cramped from writing.  He was lying on his stomach facing the fire next to Hermione.  He propped his head up on one elbow and used his other hand to rub the back of his neck as he turned to watch Hermione flipping a page in a book as she traced the end of her quill across her mouth.  It was so different with just the two of them.  Usually Ron was always around them and he would be complaining about this or that or bickering with Hermione.  Half the time Harry spent with the two of them, he spent trying to ignore them instead of actually doing any work.  

He considered her for a moment longer and then asked, "So what were you and Tonks discussing that you had to have a private dinner?"  He had suspected that Tonks was just trying to give Hermione some cheering up and maybe extra help on apparating.  

Hermione looked over at him and then turned back to her book and said elusively, "Oh, nothing.  Just girl stuff."

Harry was about to comment on her ever-so-evasive answer when she turned back and cut him off with a change of subject, "So, did you ever hear back from Ron?  I mean, after I sent him news of our OWL scores?"  

"Er, yeah.  Why?  He told me what classes he all signed up for next year.  Told me I was a nutter to voluntarily take Potions." He laughed then, remembering, "He also told me to write Ginny and to tell her Dean was a mad prat and all."  

Hermione looked a bit disappointed for just a moment and then said rather coolly, "Oh, well." 

Harry watched her reaction and then asked slowly, "Didn't he write you back, too?"

She took a deep breath, "He probably just…well, never mind.  He probably just forgot." 

Harry thought this was quite unlikely and said, "Well, actually it sounded like he might not have done so well on his scores.  I mean not bad or anything, but maybe not as well as you.  Or me."  He paused for a moment as Hermione looked at him and then began ticking off on his fingers, "I know he said he's taking Defense, Magical Creatures, Herbology, History of Magic and Divination.  So maybe he just…" Harry trailed off as he saw a scowl growing on Hermione's face and jaw dropping in horror.

_"That…  Ergh!  He!! Oh!!"  _

Harry was not quite sure what he had said to cause this reaction.

"_He's not taking_…Transfiguration _or_ Charms?!?!"  Harry nodded dumbly.  "Oh!  That!  Are you sure?"  She had sat up now and pounded her fist onto her knee.

Harry nodded dumbly and swallowed and had to ask, "Er, is that a problem?"

She looked at him now with a furious look and explained, "Well, he had asked me to keep it a secret, but, now, well…" She calmed down and continued, "See, he had asked me shortly after the quidditch match against Ravenclaw if I would help him study.  He said he had chosen to be an Auror in his career counseling and that he really needed to ace Charms and Transfiguration.  He said he had no shot getting an O in Potions but that he would be content to study on his own for the NEWT exam if I would help with that, too.  

"He made me promise not to tell you, but, oh!  He had me tutor him after every Prefect meeting.  He begged me to help him!  Oh!  And he _knew_ it, too!  He should have done very well.  I even gave him copies of some of my notes and _he should have known it all_.  He just panics sometimes, is all!"

Her face suddenly got a stricken look on it, "Oh.  Harry.  You don't' imagine…  I mean, you don't think…"

"What?"

She gulped and nearly whispered, "You don't think he might have _failed_ those, do you?"  Her eyes were wide with horror, as if she could not think of a single worse thing to have happen to anyone.  

Harry shook his head, "No.  No way.  He would have told me if he messed up that bad.  No." 

Hermione was still worried, "But, I mean, well, if you're a _Prefect_ and you _fail_ a class_… Oh, it would crush him!"_

Harry was baffled about what she meant, "What do you mean?"

"Oh Harry, _you forfeit your Prefect Badge if you fail."_  She looked frightful for a moment longer and then her face suddenly turned into a steely look.  "He better not have failed."  

Harry almost wanted to laugh at her, for he was sure she would take it as a personal insult to her own skills if anyone she was tutoring failed a class.  "Hermione, I'm sure."  He wasn't really.  "_Positive_.  Ron did not fail any classes.  Well, maybe Divination or something.  But, no way.  He probably just changed his mind or something."

She looked somewhat relived but still rather doubtful, "But wouldn't he have told you that then?"

Harry shrugged, "He never told me he had decided on an Auror for sure, so why would he tell me he changed his mind?"  Harry hoped he wouldn't have to listen to Hermione rant about Ron all evening when Ron wasn't even around.  

Hermione sighed and looked down as she fiddled with her quill, "Oh, I suppose you're right.  I just thought…  I mean I figured…"

"That with your help, anyone should have aced the exams?"  Harry quirked up an eyebrow at her.

She smiled and nodded weakly, "Well, maybe."  

Harry was smiling at how well he knew her, "Well, I am sure he did fine."  

Harry sprawled back out onto his stomach and rested his head on his folded arms.  As he scrunched up his shoulders and rolled his neck a bit, Hermione asked him, "Are you sore?"  

Harry grimaced, "Yeah, Tonks was brutal today."  He almost added something about how draining apparition was but thought better of it.

"You've really learned a lot, Harry.  We were watching you.  I was very impressed."  Harry felt himself blush at the compliment.  She gave him a sly look and added, "I don't think you've told me yet half of all you've learned."

He smiled up at her, "Well, I've got to keep something to bribe you with so you'll lend me your notes if I need them."  She wore a look of mock outrage at this.   

He then grimaced again, closed his eyes and began rubbing the back of his neck.   

He heard her tentatively ask, "Do you… would you like, me to give you a neck massage?"  She finished trying to sound as businesslike as possible.  

"What?  Oh."  Harry had never had a massage of any kind.  Unless you count Dudley giving him a knuckle massage, but that was definitely not pleasant.  "Er...sure."  

Hermione motioned for him to sit up as she settled herself cross-legged with her back against the sofa.  "Here, sit in front of me and face that way." 

Harry felt her hand on the back of his head as she gently told him, "Tilt your head down."  She then smoothed out his t-shirt across his shoulders and kneaded in close by his neck.  

"Oh, you're tense." she said as she squeezed his shoulders.

"Oi!  Is it supposed to hurt?" Harry asked as he flinched at the soreness in his neck and shoulders.  

She stopped trying to squeeze or massage but left her hands on his back.  He heard her smile and say, "No.  You need to relax.  Just, loosen up.  Take a deep breath," he inhaled, "and breathe out."  He exhaled.  "There."  

She was now just running her hands across his shoulders and up against his neck.  Harry felt himself breathe out even more as the feel of her hands sliding across his back began to lull him into a soothing trance.  

He felt his tensions and thoughts even begin to slip away.  He was just realizing how relaxing this was for his mind and had thought to comment on how it might help to 'clear his mind' but he instead found he could no longer really string together many coherent thoughts.  Not that he cared.  

Hermione asked softly, "Does this feel okay?"

The only answer he could manage a nod of his head and, "Mmm, hmm."

Hermione continued for quite some time, running her hands along his shoulders, down and up his upper arms, back down and up his spine, up to his neck and her fingers would run up into the back of his hair.  

As one hand of hers continued to tangle and run into the back of his messy locks, Harry began to unconsciously tilt his head back and into her touch.  His breathing was more ragged now and he was lost in a daze, completely unaware of where he was.  He was just delirious at the sensations of being touched like this.   

He was barely cognizant of the mantle clock striking midnight.  Hermione's slowing hands caused his own mind to slow back down as he leaned backwards a little and felt his back against Hermione.   Her left hand then slid down his side and around to his front and her right hand paused on the back of his neck as she leaned in and in barely a whisper, said, "Guess what, Harry?"

Harry felt a shiver run through him as her breath ran across his neck and he leaned back further into her hand as it tangled into his hair.  He cracked his eyes open just inches from her face, "Happy Birthday, Harry."  He saw her smiling at him and her eyes dart a look at his mouth.  

As her own mouth parted softly and she wet her lips, it was all the invitation his dazed mind needed.  He soon felt his mouth tasting her lips and as he turned slightly towards her, her mouth was opening under his and his right hand moved up to her face.   His fingers traced her temple and then to her check and then cupped her neck and he held her to him.   

He then felt her tongue slip out and into his own mouth, which he opened wider for her to explore as he moaned into her mouth.   

It was wonderful, this feeling of surrender and abandonment.  They barely paused a second to gasp for air and Harry turned more completely and wound his other arm around the back of Hermione's waist and pulled her to him as he was kissing her again.   Slowly, savoring, at first and then opening her mouth with his own as he sought to explore her mouth his tongue as she had with him.  

Her hands were running all down his back, up his sides, across his chest and into his hair.  His own, were locking her face to his and holding her tight against him.  

_This was it.  *It*._  This was the feeling that he hadn't even known he was yearning for.  _Completion_.  The confliction he had felt between wanting to be alone and not socialize with people versus not wanting to feel alone was answered by the simple solution of just this.  _Touching… holding… Hermione.  Hermione.  His friend, Hermione…_

He slowed in kissing her as he began to realize what he was doing.  He nearly lost himself again when she moaned at the loss of his mouth and her hand dragged down his chest and came to rest on his thigh as he leaned back.  

He had on hand on her hip and one still on her neck but his eyes were wide and he could feel his mouth hanging open as his breathing slowed and he watched Hermione flutter open her eyes.  

*          *          *          *

They were both startled and jumped apart as Crookshanks leapt up onto the sofa behind Hermione.  Harry's arms were back at his own sides now and he had moved a foot or so away and was now kneeling.  His heartbeat was racing as Crookshanks sprawled out on the edge of the sofa and stared curiously at both Harry and Hermione.

"I think, er…"  Harry's voice was low and raspy and he had to clear his throat before he went on, "Er, maybe, we should just, er, go to bed."

Hermione whipped her head around from staring dumbly at Crookshanks to looking in shock at Harry.  

Harry had by now realized what he had just said and was blushing furiously and wishing to just melt into the carpet in embarrassment but managed to stammer out, "Er, that's not what I meant!  Er, I mean…"  

He was too embarrassed to note Hermione's own flushing and as she began to hastily gather and pile up books from the floor, she said in a high voice, "Yes.  Yes, it is quite late." 

Harry watched Hermione stacking her books, as well as several of his own and was trying to replay over in his mind everything that had just happened.  As she leaned back after stacking every book up before her, he reached out and put his hand on her arm, "Hermione."

She froze and slowly turned towards him with an unreadable look on her face at she met his gaze.  

Harry had to swallow before he could say, "Listen, Hermione, I'm…so…sorry."  He paused watched her face and trying to decipher the look she wore, "I just, I mean I didn't… I wasn't thinking.  I…" He looked down and drew back his hand as he finished weakly, "It just happened."  

He could see out of the corner of his eye, Hermione look back down at the pile of books and said quietly, "I know.  It's not your...  I mean we both…  I just can't imagine… I…I don't want to lose you."

Harry furrowed his brow in confusion and Hermione looked towards him and went on, "Harry, you're my best friend.  I don't want to lose that.  To lose you.  I just…  I can't."  She looked back down and leaned back on her knees as she finished.  

Harry watched her and then said, "I can't lose you either.  Hermione, you don't know what it was like… to see you, when… when I thought…" He was thinking of when Dolohov's curse had hit her and knocked her out and Harry hadn't known if she was dead or alive or if she would even live to wake up.  

In a voice filled with emotion he said, "Hermione, I don't know what I'd ever do if I lost you."  He meant it.  She had been the one to help in nearly everything he had ever done.  It was her who got him through the wall of fire to save the Philosopher's Stone.  It was her who deduced it was a basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets.  It was her who enabled them to turn back Time and to save Sirius in their third year.  It was her who helped him learn a summoning charm and every other spell he needed for the Tournament.  And it was her, Hermione, who had suspected that the vision of Sirius was a trap; she had tried to warn Harry not to go.  But even when he refused, she had still been by his side, leading the way with him.  

He could feel an unidentifiable emotion building in his chest.  He could barely control his emotion as he whispered, "You've been there for everything.  Ever since we met, you've been the best friend.  You've never doubted me.  Everything I've ever done… you've helped.  If, last year, I should have listened…maybe he'd still be here…"

He couldn't look at her and dropped his head and closed his eyes as a single tear escaped and rolled down his cheek.  As he tasted the tear on his lip, he felt Hermione's hands on his shoulders pulling him into an embrace.  He heard her sniff as she said, "Harry, you'll never lose me."   

There, they embraced, kneeling on the floor before the dying fire and a tall stack of books.  They both had to sniff a few times and as Harry gained control of his emotions, he laughed, "You know, Ron and I have never ended up sobbing and hugging after sharing heartfelt confessions."   

They drew apart and Hermione laughed too as she stood up.  As she began picking up the pile of books, she said, "Well, I bet you and Ron have never kissed before either."  

"Er, ew.  No.  Definitely not and thank god for that."  Harry said quickly as he was picking out his books from the stack and handing Hermione's to her.  As he stood up with his own books, he asked, "So, er, does this… I mean, what happened, does it… change anything?  Between us I mean?"  _Shut it Potter, you blabber on worse than Colin_.

Hermione was looking at him and searching his face.  "Well," she said, "I'm not really sure… I mean, I think… Well, do you want it to change anything?"

Harry hadn't expected this question being turned back on him.  They both searched each other's faces now and Harry was pretty sure he wouldn't mind kissing Hermione again, but he wasn't sure that would be the wisest answer right now.  

He was saved from having to say anything when Hermione squared her shoulders and broke the silence, "Listen, it's late.  And we're both tired and I think we should just sleep on it.  If there is something we want to happen, then we should discuss it later.  When we're not so…  It's just that right now…" 

"Yeah.  I agree."  Harry knew she must be feeling the same way as he was right now.  Still remembering the sensations of one pressing against the other and kissing… "Yeah.  It's late."   Harry had to stop his mind from remembering again and shifted the pile of books a little in front of him.  He nodded for her to head out the room before him.

The walk upstairs to their rooms seemed like a long one.  Harry had been ever so grateful for the armful of books when he had to mumble an awkward 'goodnight' as Hermione reached her door and he went on to stumble into his own room.  

For the first night since Sirius's death, it wasn't the voices that lulled Harry to sleep and through his dreams; it was the memory of kissing, feeling, and holding Hermione.  

  
*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

A/N:  Many thanks to my beta who gave me an onsite visit and helped me act out the scene on the drawing room floor.  Without that, we never would have known how easy it was for Hermione's hand to fall on Harry's thigh.   Thanks, Hon!  


	12. Chapter 15 Surprise!

A/N:  Well there was just so much happening in this next day and even more in the next few days.  I had hoped to have this chapter cover both this day (Harry's birthday) and the next (the first Order Meeting) but I had to cut it off when the chapter passed over 10,000 words.  I think I have JKR syndrome.  It's those damn twins' fault-- they never shut up and are always doing stuff and, well, frankly all the characters have taken on lives of their own and I just write what they do.  I've lost all control.  I also had to work out detailed floor plans of Grimmauld Place through deduction from OotP so I wouldn't screw up and forget where everything was.  I think I'll be making drawings of them and scanning or posting crude floor plans on the yahoo group site for anyone else who wants a working imagine and layout of the house.  

Also, my beta has some funky rash and is all looped out on meds so hasn't had a chance to go over this.  Please forgive minor mistakes.  I will repost a grammar-corrected version later sometime.  

Chapter 15.  Surprise!

Harry woke early the next morning.  In fact, he had awoken several times during the night, trying to recall where his memory of the previous night ended and his dreams began.   

_6:30.  That's not so early as to be too obvious that I barely managed a wink of actual sleep._  Harry rolled over to the edge of his bed and pushed the covers off of him.  He yawned and stretched with his arms over his head.  He rolled his neck around and found, he wasn't really sore at all now, as he had expected he might have been.  _I guess that massage really did help._  

Harry got up and slipped on his dressing shoes and yawned again as he walked to the door to head towards the bathroom.   The dressing shoes, as well as the pyjama bottoms he was wearing, were all things he had found in the wardrobe in his bedroom.  Apparently Sirius had felt the need to provide Harry with any and every conceivable thing a teen wizard could need.  Harry had found several pairs of jeans, multiple styles of robes and even a few dress robes, an assortment of shirts, a few pairs of shoes, and several other necessities for a growing teen.  The shaving set was one of the things for which Harry had no need, as yet.  The pyjamas that he had found in the wardrobe were his favorite thus far.  Well the trousers, mostly.  The bed sheets felt so sublime against his bare skin that he usually, now, slept without a shirt.  

Harry came back from his shower into his room and dressed quickly before heading out to go down to breakfast.   He only paused for a step as he passed the room where he imagined Hermione to be sleeping within.  He found he was the first one up as he entered the kitchen and Winky already had his breakfast prepared and out on the table.   

"Where's Dobby this morning?"  Harry asked as he sat himself at the long wooden table.  

Winky kept right on at the oven, mixing some batter while standing on a stool, and didn't even look at him to answer, "He is working, Master Harry."  

Harry had never been addressed before like this and, as he thought about, had never been addressed by Winky since he'd came to Grimmauld Place.  "Er, Winky, just call me 'Harry', okay?  Please?"  

"Yes, Master Harry, sir." 

Harry had to replay her answer over in his head to confirm he heard it correctly.  _Sigh_.  He decided to leave the futile efforts of changing a house-elf for another day.  

Harry helped himself to a large breakfast of bacon, eggs, kippers, toast, and more bacon.   Feeling quite stuffed, he headed back upstairs and to the practice hall to work off the excess energy flowing within him.  He had a couple of hours before he expected McGonagall to arrive but also knew she was often early.  Harry set up a Volley Wall Charm on one wall and started off with bouncing a few minor jinxes off it and then deflecting them back.  One thing the that he was noticing using this training charm, was that he could see the beams and flashes of lights from spells more clearly and with more concentration since the spells were renewed when they were deflected back towards him.  Harry was beginning to notice the subtle differences of colors and patterns for the different spells he cast.  

After a short break, Harry looked about the hall for objects to use for transfiguration.  He knew his essay topic would likely indicate that the focus of his work today with McGonagall would be to learn to utilize transfigured or conjured objects to block curses and other nasty spells.  There was a pair of small side chairs in one corner.  Harry wished they had learned conjuring of objects already as he settled for summoning one of the chairs from the corner to him.  He caught the back of the chair in his hand and set it down.  He frowned at it and wondered exactly how it was he would be able to control an object enough to direct it into the path of an oncoming spell.  

He knew how to make it levitate, how to summon it, and how to banish it.  Could he put those all together to create a three-dimensional level of control?   Harry was engrossed in trying to manage controlling the chair by using a rapid succession of banishing, summoning, and levitation charms when he was startled by the sound of Professor' McGonagall's questioning voice, "Potter, what on earth are you trying to do--confuse the poor chair?"  

The chair crashed down from the air and Harry quickly repaired it (for the seventh time that morning) and looked up sheepishly at McGonagall who was striding purposefully into the hall and looking about appraisingly.  "Well?  This should do.  Potter, your essay?"  

Harry had forgot to bring it out to the hall from his room so he summoned it from his desk and into the hall where McGonagall caught it in her hand.  She unrolled it and perused the length of the scroll. Her eyebrows raised and she peered over the top pf the scroll and over the top of her square glasses at Harry and said, "Well, you did a bit more than expected.  But, now what were you trying to do with the chair?"

Harry frowned, "Well, I was trying to figure out how to control it enough to be able to use it to block spells.  But, well, it wasn't going so well."  Harry thought understatement was perhaps the best thing right about now.  He had only managed a very crude control of the chair that was had only been resulting in the chair jerking back and forth and zigzagging with such haste that he had been losing control of it more than anything.  

"And you thought to use charms?"  McGonagall's mouth was in a thin line and Harry nodded as he was not sure what else he should have used; transfigured the chair into having a brain that he could talk to and tell what to do?

"Watch."  McGonagall stated simply and pointed her wand at the chair.  The chair rose up, spun around in the air, wiggled its legs while in the air in a little dance then shot around the room in circles and came to rest on the floor in front of Harry and then bent its two front legs in a sort of curtsy before coming to a rest.  

Harry looked at McGonagall eagerly with both eyes wide, "How?  How do you do it?"

She had a slight smirk on her face as she explained, "You are familiar, I presume with the Unforgivable Curses?"

Harry felt his stomach drop and wasn't at all sure where this was going as he felt himself pale and nod weakly.

"Oh Potter, don't look so aghast!  They are only unforgivable if used upon another person!  Imperius!  Use Imperius on an _object_ you wish to control!  Of course, you must animate it first, so it can be controlled as such."  She pointed her wand at the chair again and spoke out loud, _"Vigoro Imperio."_ as she waved her wand about and made the chair move at her will.  

As the chair settled back down to the floor, she looked at Harry, "All you must do is concentrate and _will_ the object to move as you wish.  The only limitation to what you can make it do it do, is your imagination.  

"Go on now, let's have you try it.  This is not part of the standard curriculum at Hogwarts because the Board of Governors has always been wary of teaching any students anything about the use of these curses.  But obviously, Dumbledore has wanted students to know about them and to know what they might be facing; especially these days.  

"Now, it is critical with the casting of this spell to focus your mind _continuously_ on maintaining control of the object.  If your thoughts waiver, then your control may waiver.  Of course, as you master it, you will be able to send complex commands and then move your mind on to another thought while the object under control continues to carry out your wishes.  It is all in how you manage it.  Go on now, just concentrate on giving the chair a mind of its own which you will then control."

Harry was slightly reluctant at first and once he did get the hang of it, he had to try to stop thinking of the chair as being obstinate (probably from all the trouble he was having with it earlier in trying to control it).  By the end of an hour, however, Harry was able to command and control the chair with much more success than when he had first started.

"There.  Now, over the next week, practice that.  Make sure that while you are at Hogwarts, this is one spell you should try to keep the incantation silent.  In fact, you seem to be doing very well in detaching the power you put into spellcasting form the power and passion of voice.  Excellent, really.  Also, try to practice on giving more complex commands so that you can cast and then move on while the controlled object is carrying out your commands."

Harry nodded and felt like he was finally making progress.  

"Now, have you tried using any of the conjured weapons in the book I gave you?" 

"Er, no."  Harry hadn't had much opportunity to go over the book and all the weapons but also felt that it would have been pointless as conjuring objects was not something that they, as students, had covered yet.  "We've never covered conjuring before, Professor."

McGonagall actually rolled her eyes at this, "Honestly, Potter, you saw Draco Malfoy conjure a snake in only his second year!  It's obviously not very difficult.  It is, however, also not part of the standard curriculum.  I do try to cover it, as does Professor Flitwick in students' seventh years."  She began her pacing back and forth as she went into standard McGonagall--professor mode.  

"Now, there are several restrictions on what can and can't be conjured, but it is so difficult to enforce, I daresay it is a waste of legislation to even try to regulate it.  You can conjure any _object_ or _thing_ that you can think of; again, the only limit is your imagination.  The power you possess and put into the conjuring of an object, the more strength you lend to the object.  This affects the ruggedness of the object and the length of its duration."  

Harry found it remarkably simple to get the hang of conjuring.  Of course, the quality of his conjured items could have been better.  His conjured chair, meant to match the one already in the room, stood for only a few seconds before its legs began to bow and it crashed to the floor.  The teapot he conjured shattered when McGonagall tested it by filling it up with hot water from her wand.  The worst one was the vase that he conjured that kept growing larger and larger before melting into a puddle onto the floor.  

He was looking and feeling quite dejected when he whined, "At this rate, I'll be lucky to conjure a rope that _looks_ like a snake, much less--hold on--_conjured ropes_.  Professor, I can conjure magical ropes, " he paused and pointed his wand at the existing chair and cried, _"Incarcerous!"_ as ropes flew out of his wand and bound the chair.  

"Why is it I can conjure that just fine but these other things look so absolutely dreadful?"  Harry questioned his professor.

McGonagall was still staring at the ropes binding the chair for a few more moments before she nodded and turned back to Harry.  "I say, Mr. Potter, that was excellent."  She looked him in the eye for a moment and then said, "I believe, the answer to your limitations, is again, only your imagination.  That," she pointed to the bound chair, "is a far more advanced spell--you conjured an item and then directed it to wind around the chair and then--look, they are still holding.  I think this has more to do with you believing in yourself and seeing the value of the magic you perform.  I could have said it has to do with not using incantations to conjure these items, but I really don't think that is your problem."

She was walking in a circle around the bound chair and tapping one finger along her jaw.  "Do you recall what type of object may deflect, say, a stunning spell?"

Harry recalled the table he had copied into his essay and answered, "Wood, glass, stone, metal, any solid, non-passable object."  

"And the size of an object being used to deflect such a spell must be?"

Harry thought for a moment, "Er, big enough to hide behind?"

One eyebrow went up, "Not quite, Potter, big enough to defend the part of yourself that is vulnerable to the spell.  A stunning spell has to hit the trunk or head of a body to properly stun the person."  She gestured at Harry's body from his head to his waist.  

Harry suddenly had a flashback of Voldemort conjuring up a shinning, silver shield when he dueled with Dumbledore.  He was nodding his head in understanding, "Yes."  He was imagining conjuring up such a shield to hold before him.  And thinking about how he could conjure such a thing when McGonagall cut into his thinking.

"Well, Potter, I think you have enough to work on for next week.  Work on conjuring things; an excellent thing to start with is a quill--you can try to use it then and easily see for how long it lasts while being used.  It will be especially helpful for your next assignment for me.  Since, it seems like you are already thinking about it, I want you to make a list of spells that you would like to find or create.  Go about it by thinking of what you would like to the spells _to do_.   You know, like which spells and magic you would most like to have at your disposal.  Describe them and how you might use them.  I won't go over advanced spell theory as I might in class, but rather I will show you how to break down the magic you want to perform into more general skills that you can put together."  She was pocketing her wand and gathering the few things she had brought into a satchel.

Harry looked at his watch; it was only one o'clock and they usually went at least another hour longer.  "Are we done already?"

She looked up at him and peered over her glasses, "It seems, that Professor Dumbledore has made a request that you be allowed the afternoon free."  

Harry turned to see Lupin walk into the hall, "Yes, I just got his message."  Lupin was smiling at Harry and walking towards him now, "You did say you wanted to go to Diagon Alley sometime, right, Harry?"

What was this?  Freedom?  A chance to get out?  Could this be a joke?  Harry blinked for his only answer.

Lupin, nearly chuckled, "No then?  Okay, nevermind, perhaps I'll go by myself…"

"No!"  Harry was laughing at himself now, "I mean, I was just shocked.  Yes, shocked.  Yes, I need to go, er, want to go.   Who else needs to come along?"  Harry recalled the dozen or so Order members who were required to accompany him from Privet Drive last summer as his advance guard.  Even with such an entourage, Diagon Alley was still an opportunity not to miss.  

Lupin answered, "Well, actually, it'll just be us."  He saw Harry's incredulous look and explained, "Harry, Voldemort's numbers are low--very low.  The only three known followers he still has are all in hiding and there is no news of recruiting currently --probably because there is no one to do it right now.  This is the best opportunity we've had and that we are likely to get to be out in public without worry.  Why don't you go on and get changed to go.  We are only a few blocks from the Leaky Cauldron and we'll catch lunch there, if you like."

Harry was quickly changing his clothes in his room and thinking that Lupin probably mean 'us' going to Diagon Alley meant Tonks, and Hermione, as well.  Upon realizing this, he stopped, and rethought out what clothes he might wear.  Ten minutes later, he had finally made a decision (black jeans and a black t-shirt because it was the safest bet he could make to not looking stupid) and he grabbed a blackish-silveryish summer weight robe that Sirius had bought and flung it over his arm and headed out the door. He only paused a moment to look in the mirror again and be thankful that he had let his aunt get his haircut.  

As he walked by Hermione's door, it opened.  "Oh! Harry, you're still here!"  She looked him up and down and swallowed a little nervously.

Harry was feeling much better about his choice of outfit, and asked, "Of course, are you ready?"  

She looked back up at his face, "Er, well, I… " and then couldn't meet his eye and looked over Harry's shoulder as she continued, "I really can't, I shouldn't, I mean, I have a lot of stuff to do.  You go on.  I think Remus is waiting in the Entry Hall."  

She met his eye finally and he felt his heart sinking.  It was stupid, he thought, to think that what had happened the night before might not have made things awkward between them.  Obviously, Hermione felt awkward and was uncomfortable, thereby, making Harry feel uncomfortable. 

He cleared his throat, "Well, okay.  If, you're sure, that is."  He couldn't look her eye in the eye either now and was feeling rather like a git for thinking she might have been checking him out when she first saw him.  _She was probably admiring your incredible ability to match like colors together, you sod_.    

He turned to leave her to her room and took a few steps before turning back to see her still watching him contemplatively, "Er, are you sure there isn't anything you want me to pick up for you then? Anything you need?  Since I'm going and all…" he trailed off feeling more and more stupid each second.

"Oh.  Well, actually, I could use… but you really don't have to…"

"What?"  

"Well, you'll make fun of me…" Hermione actually pouted.

Harry couldn't help a snigger, "Wh-what?"

She scrunched up her nose and made a face, "Nevermind-- see you're laughing already."

He was grinning now,  "Well, what is it?  I won't laugh.  C'mon."

She gave him a mock glare and then blew out her breath and said, "There is a new edition of a book that I want.  My old one is rather, er, worn."  She went on looking down at her feet, "It's an extra charge for owl post delivery because it's so large, but you should be able to shrink it or use a Featherlight Charm on it to carry it."

"Hermione, _what is it_, already?"  

She was still looking down as she mumbled and Harry had to ask her to repeat it.  

"_Hogwarts: A History_!  All right!  It's _Hogwarts: A History_."  She crossed her arms and glared at him, just daring him to laugh at her.  

Harry was still grinning and was carefully schooling his face not to break into laughter.  Instead he quirked up an eyebrow, turned the grin into a smirk, and teased, "Would that be the revised edition that includes the enslavement of house-elves now?"  

He was already trotting down the hall away from her before he heard her shriek in indignation and he called back to her, "Consider it done!"  

"Ready?"  Lupin was at the top of the stairs just above the Entrance Hall when Harry came bounding down towards him.  

"Yup.  So it really is just you and me?  Where's Tonks?"

Lupin answered, "Oh, I think she had some stuff to take care of before she has to go back to work again next week.  Just us, if you can handle my company, that is"

Harry smiled, "Of course, are we walking?"  he asked as they made their way to the door that leave to the street.

Just then, they were passing by the portrait of Sirius's mother that Harry had completely forgotten all about. 

  "_Filth! Scum!  Half-breeds, mutants and freaks begone from this place! Vile spawn of --_"

Harry and Lupin shut the curtains with great effort and in the following silence, Harry whispered, "Er, guess I forgot about her."

They were soon out the door and on their way.   It was only a short few blocks to Charing Cross Road where they turned into The Leaky Cauldron.  They grabbed a booth and Harry automatically patted down the front of his hair to try to cover up his scar.  After a quick lunch, Harry had informed Lupin that the first place he had to go was Gringotts, as he hadn't been there in nearly three years.  

Diagon Alley wasn't nearly as crowded as it had been when Harry had been there before, just days before the start of school when students were up and down the street.  It was much less crowded now and he much preferred it that way.  

He and Lupin were chatting casually about nothing important and finding it hard to get past all the display windows in Quality Quidditch Supplies when a familiar voice called out, "Harry!  Professor Lupin!!  Over here!"

Harry turned and saw Fred (or was it George?) coming down the street. 

"They let you out just anywhere now?  Aren't you due for a hearing or trial for trying to defend yourself against some man-eating, soul-sucking beast or something, there Harry?"  

"Oy!"  Harry made a face at the dig about his tendency to get in trouble for simply refusing to die.  "So, where's your other half?  Hey!  Your shop!! Where it is?"  

"C'mon, you guys have to see it!! It's great!  Fred is watching the store now, I was just out to grab us a bite."  George had Harry by the arm and was dragging him down and across the street to a small store front just down from Eeylops Owl Emporium.  

"Here it is!  Number Ninety-three!  Isn't it a gem?"  George was beaming with pride as he dragged Harry into the store with Lupin following behind and checking out the front of the shop appraisingly.

"Fred! Look who I dragged in!" 

Fred looked up from the counter where he was handing change back to a young girl.  "Harry! Hey mate!  It's about time you came by and drop us a visit!"  He vaulted himself over the counter and past the young girl who was staring avidly at Harry and the scar upon his forehead.  

"Well?"  What do you think?"  Fred and George both made grand flourishes about the shop and held up their hands in display.  

Harry was trying to avoid the dumbly staring girl and looked about the shop and grinned at the interior of the Weasley Wizard Wheezes.  "_Wicked_."

Fred and George took turns pulling Harry and Lupin over to see one thing and then the next.  Finally, they got a break when George had to go check out a customer and Fred pulled Harry, who was checking out a fake wand, over to the side, "Listen, Harry, we've been meaning to talk to you.  We have a bit of a, _er_, _proposition_ for you…" Harry just raised his eyebrows and looked about and saw Lupin mulling over an assortment of skiving snackboxes.   "You see, since you really are our most dear and most beloved investor--"

"You have other _investors_?"

"Er--no, but I, well, you're like family, Harry!  Anyway, we wanted to see if we could work out a deal."

"What kind of deal?"  Harry knew enough o be wary of anything involving the twins.  

"Well, you see, we'd like to be able to pay you back and all for everything--"

"You don't have to--"

"We know--but we want to and we would like to, well, we would like to make you a partner.  You'd get a percentage then of all profits.  You wouldn't have to do anything, really.  You'd be more of a silent partner, with one _small_ exception."

Harry's eyes were very narrow as he watched Fred carefully, "And that exception would be…?"

Fred toed his shoes across the floor and mumbled, "Besmokespen."

"Er, try that again?"  Harry knew this was something he wasn't going to like.

"Spokesperson. You know, like for advertisements."  

Harry was already shaking his head, "No way!"

"Oh c'mon, Harry!  Think about it!!"  Fred gazed dreamily at the ceiling and held out his arm and said, "_'Weasley Wizard Wheezes:  Where Harry Potter comes when he needs a bang!'"_

Harry, gritting his teeth, ground out,_ "No-bloody-way!" _

"Oi!  Fred, I see you told him our new slogan!"  Harry turned to glare at George who was now weaving his way back over to the corner by Fred and Harry.  "So, what do you think?"

Harry was still grinding his teeth in a way that would have made Hermione flinch, had she been there.

"I'd say he loves it!"  Fred said jovially as he started pushing Harry over to behind the counter.

"All set then?  We've already got _plenty_ of pictures, courtesy of Colin, of course."  George maneuvered Harry to a seat behind the counter and pulled out a stack of papers.

"All you need to do is sign here."  Fred pulled the top sheet from George's stack and shoved it in front of Harry.

"And here." George shoved another sheet of parchment at Harry and pointed to a line at the bottom.

"And here.  Oh! Don't forget here, too!"  Fred pointed to another few lines on the first sheet he had given Harry.

"Fred, grab the man a quill!"  said George as he was simultaneously trying to balance the large stack of parchments and hold the other papers in front of Harry.

Harry grabbed the parchments being shoved under his nose and tried to read what they said.

_WITNESSETH: ___

_In consideration of the respective covenants contained herein, the parties hereto, intending to legally bind hereby, agree as follows:___

__

_The Talent, Harry J. Potter, hereby grants to The Company, Weasley Wizard Wheezes, its advertising agency, licensees and producers or publishers of its promotional materials and their successors and assigns, the right to use, publish and copyright my picture, portrait and likeness, in exchange for a sum profit of partial partnership and profit-sharing in the amounts…_

He couldn't make heads or tails of what it said and was goggling at the parchment when, finally, a voice of _some_ sanity--Lupin's-- broke in, "Harry?  You all right there?  Just what, exactly, are you two doing to him?"

Harry looked up and handed the parchment to Lupin.  

George, trying to get a handle on the stack of parchments he still held, explained, "You see, here, Harry was our first and biggest investor--"

"_Only_ investor…" Harry cut in.

George looked at Harry and then back at Lupin,"Er, well, of course and he is our most dear friend and we want to justly reward him with making him a partner in our booming business, here.  All he has to do is sign."

"Here's the quill, freshly inked and all!"  Fred handed Harry a quill.  

Lupin was still scanning the parchment, "It looks like you want him to be your main spokesperson and use Harry in your advertisements and such?"  He handed it back to Harry.

Fred and George both took on pleading, puppy-dog faces and turned to Harry.  "Please…?"

"Pretty please?"

"With marmite on top?"

"You'll get free test products?"

"We'll send the defective ones to Malfoy!"

"And the really defective ones to Snape."

"Please?  We'll give you Ron-- he can be your very own house-elf!"

"No Ginny!  You can have Ginny!!  She's all yours!"

"Always has been really, she'll thank us if you'd take her..."

"Mum'd be chuffed at that, make you a real member of the family, it would…"

"Enough!"  Harry stood up and pushed the parchments onto the counter and set down the quill.  "Why in the world would you want to use me for this?"  He asked pleadingly, looking back and forth between the twins.  "Everyone has already seen your jokes and products at school-- you don't need me to say they're great--why?"

Harry felt a tugging at his sleeve.  He looked around and then down to see a small boy of about seven looking up at him.  "Are you Harry Potter?"  He saw the boy's eyes land on his scar and then saw his eyes grow even wider in awe.   Just then, the fake wand Harry was still holding, squeaked and turned into a mouse and Harry was left dangling it from its tail.   "Wow, Mum!! _Look, it's Harry Potter_ and he's got one of the fake wands!  _I want one!_ Mum--can I, can I?"  The boy was bouncing up and down and had ran over to the barrel of fake wands and was looking for one just like Harry had been holding.  

Harry felt Fred and George lean in on either side, "You see, "

"_That's the reason!"_

"Look at him!  _He wants whatever you've got!"_

"Please, Harry?  With you, we'll double--"

"--triple!!"

"--our business in no time!"

Harry sighed.  "I want to see all the pictures you have.  All of them.  And I want to see the words you plan to put in my mouth."

It took nearly another hour before Harry and the twins could finally come to an agreement on what pictures could and could not be used and what slogans Harry absolutely would not allow.  (He had to nix the testimonial on using a fake wand to duel Voldemort.  He felt they should all probably refrain from outright mocking of any dark lords.)

When Lupin and Harry were finally ready to leave the shop, Bill Weasley walked in the door.  "Remus!  Harry!  Well blow me!  You've come to see the shop, I reckon?"

"More like be accosted, is right."  Harry mumbled as Fred nudged him good-naturedly.

"So, what do you think?  I say it's already loads better than Gambol & Japes, but I might be a bit biased."  Bill looked around the shop with obvious pride in his eyes.

Fred kicked the ground, "Gosh golly, bro."

"Yeah, you're making us blush, now."  George chimed in.  "We're still no Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, but…someday…" he trailed off with a dreamy look in his eye.

Harry spun around and looked at George, "Er, George, Fred, you _do_ know who those people are, don't you?"

Lupin cleared his throat, "You know, I don't think they do."  

Harry looked back at Lupin and then a grin grew on his face as he turned slowly back to the twins, "You really should know enough to _guess_ who they are…?" He looked expectantly at the twins.  I'll give you a hint."  He raised he eyebrows towards Lupin and said, "Moon-eee…"  Nothing.  "_Padfoot_--would be _a_ _dog_…?"  He was looking like they should catch on any minute now, but the twins and Bill all looked completely bewildered.

Lupin chuckled and broke in, "Well, let's let them think about it, Harry.  We haven't even gotten to Gringotts yet."  

Bill looked up, "Gringotts?  I was just heading back."  He looked at the still-baffled twins and waved, "See you two _later!!"_

Bill fell in step with Lupin and Harry as they walked down the street towards the great white bank on the corner.  "Actually, it's probably best if I go in with you anyway.  There's been a bit of tensions running amongst the goblins these days.  It seems a lot of people are withdrawing their gold from the bank because of the news last month."  Harry knew Bill was talking about the news of Voldemort's return.  "See, people are afraid to which side the goblins may turn and don't want to take any chances."  He stopped suddenly and looked sharply at Harry, "You're not closing your account, are you?"

"What?  No.  I just need money.  Should I?"  Harry asked but Bill shushed him as the arrived and walked up the stone steps, past the two goblin guards and into the bank.  

"Weasley!"  Another wizard came rushing over to Bill and started to drag him away.  Bill motioned for Harry and Lupin to wait a moment as he went over to talk to the frantic wizard.

"Remus?  Remus!  Hello there, long time, hasn't it?" A tall and thin, balding wizard stopped as he saw Lupin and the two began chatting animatedly.  

Harry hovered over away from the main door to avoid being recognized by anyone and looked about.  The bank was less busy than he had seen it before and there were several goblins waiting at the service counter watching him shrewdly.  "Can I help you?"  said one of the goblins that looked to have a slightly more cheerful disposition than Snape.  

Harry glanced back at Bill and Lupin, both of whom were engrossed in conversations.  "Er, yes.  I need to go to my vault."  He dug in his jeans pocket and pulled out his key and handed it over to the goblin.  

"Name?"  the goblin inquired.

"Potter.  Harry Potter, sir."  The goblin looked him over from scar to foot and Harry felt several other goblins lean over to get a better look at him.  "Very well, then.  I'll take you myself."  He climbed down from whatever he was standing on to try to make him seem imposing and walked from behind the counter and towards the hallway that led to the vault carts.  

Harry followed after him and glanced back just once to still see both Lupin and Bill, oblivious to Harry's departure.  

The ride down the caverns and tunnels was as stomach turning as ever.  The cart came to an abrupt halt in front of what Harry recognized, to be his vault and he climbed out.  Upon opening ht vault, Harry looked in to see, what appeared to be, more gold than he previously recalled having.  _Huh?_  "Er, is this the right vault, sir?"

"Harry Potter, vault number six hundred and eighty-seven.  This is your vault."  Harry looked at the goblin to see him staring challengingly back at him.    

"Well, it just seems, sir, that there is more gold in here than I recall?  I was just wondering…why that might be?"  Harry really hoped he wasn't about to offend a goblin stuck at the bottom of a cavern, miles beneath London.

The goblin shifted and said, "I believe, you had several deposits made on your behalf, the past year.  Transfers from another vault?"  

Harry was confused as to who would be anonymously dumping gold into his vault.  "Who?"

The goblin looked from left to right and then leaned closer and said, "I cannot say.  Gold deposits are always accepted.  I can tell you, it had the authorization of an approved guardian." 

"Guardian?  Of the vault?  What are you talking about?"

The goblin dropped his voice to a whisper and held his long-fingered hand by his mouth as he said, _"Your guardian._ The person who made the deposits had legal rights to access your vault.  He only made deposits, Mr. Potter." 

"Oh!  Oh."  _Sirius_.  That meant that this was what Sirius must have done with much of the remaining Black fortune to keep it away from Bellatrix.  "I see."  Harry pulled out his moneybag and ducked back into the vault and began filling the bag with gold.  

"Perhaps, I can interest you in a larger vault, Mr. Potter?"  Harry heard the goblin outside inquire and he pulled back from the vault to look at him.  "With an account your size, sir, you might find a larger vault more accommodating?"

Harry looked back into the vault.  He couldn't even see the back of it, past all the piles and piles of gold.  "Er, what would I have to do?"  he asked as he turned back to the goblin.

"Well, there would a slightly larger service fee but it would include extra security enchantments, more room, a regular inventory servicing, and an increased earned interest rate on your part.  When you're finished here, we can go over the details upstairs?"

Harry was nodding, "Actually, there was another thing I wanted to ask about, too.  I heard about an account one can get, for people who don't often get an opportunity to come here to the bank?  For use with owl orders and such?"

The goblin raised an eye at this, "Oh?  A Bottomless Credit Account?  We can do that too…yes, yes.  Back up, then.  You needn't worry about filling your bag here at all then."  

They climbed back into the cart and went up, up, up and back to the lobby of the bank where the brilliant light of the white marble nearly blinded Harry.  The goblin led him to a small office off to the side of the lobby and called out to some others, "Get Mr. Potter some tea!  Herod!  Get me a credit form!"  The goblin gestured for Harry to have a seat and smiled in a creepy way at Harry.  

"Well then, we'll get you all set in no time."

"Harry?"  Harry turned to see Bill poke his head around the corner.  "Harry!  There you are!  We've been looking for you!"

"Oh, I just went to my vault.  No problems.  I'm just doing some changes here."  Harry noticed the goblin behind the desk begin to glare towards Bill.

"You found him?  Harry?"  Lupin also poked his head in the room.  "There you are!"

Harry was growing irritated that Lupin and Bill were getting worried when he had just gone down to his own vault, as they knew he had planned to do.  "Yes, I'm fine here.  I just need to, er, do a bit of paperwork here.  I'll be right out."  He looked pointedly at Bill and then at Lupin.  It wasn't that he knew what he was doing on his own; quite the opposite really.  But he was irked that people seemed to think he couldn't handle himself for a mere few minutes.  

Bill nodded slowly, "Alright, Harry, we'll be right out here then."  

Just then the other goblin bustled back into the office and set a tray of steaming tea in front of Harry and set several forms on the desk.  

The goblin that was working with Harry, smiled as Lupin and Bill backed out of the office.  He turned back to Harry and said, "Now then, help yourself to tea."  

He pulled out a rosewood box and opened it on the desk to reveal an array of several colorful, velvet moneybags.  "Choose one you like, now."

"Er, what are these?"  Harry asked.

"These," the goblin held up a bag, "are Bottomless Moneybags; for the credit accounts.  We enchant the bag so that whenever you reach into it, it's always filled.  It can handle deposits as well as withdrawals.  It's directly linked to your account.  Now choose one you like so we can enchant it properly there."

Harry looked into the box and pulled out one that was a deep emerald green with gold tassels.  

"Now, Mr. Potter, pull out your key again."  Harry dug it out.  

"Place your other hand in the bag."  Harry did as he was told while holding his key in the other hand.

"Now, place the key into the golden emblem on the bottom of the bag."  Harry turned the bag over to see a Gringotts emblem of the bottom and he pressed his key into it.  The emblem glowed gold and then the key sank into the emblem.  

"Take out your hand and tap the bag with your wand once.  There. Now it's all set up.  Only your hand may withdraw money from the bag.  If the bag is ever lost or stolen, it will sense that it is no longer in your presence and will transport itself back here to the bank.  That bag is your key now.  Only a Gringotts goblin may retrieve the key from the bag.  If you ever do need to visit your vault in person, then, we will remove it from the bag for you.  

"For owl orders, businesses may have a spot in their catalogs, upon which to press the emblem of the bag.  You may use this to authorize payment for the orders.  Just look for the same emblem on their order forms as you see on the bottom of the bag.

"Now, about that new vault.  Do you have any preferences?"

Harry shook his head and although he fully realized he might regret it later, said, listen, "Just, whatever you think is best, should be fine.  Did you say I would get a regular, er, inventory of the vault then?  Like a summary of how much is in there?"  

The goblin nodded.  "Yes, Mr. Potter that is correct."

"Well, I'm not sure what I have in there now, so I'm not really certain what vault would be appropriate.  Can I  …" yes, he certainly might regret this but he really had no clue. "Can I trust you to chose the right one for me?"

The goblin stared at Harry for a moment.  When he did speak, it was in a low whisper of a voice,  "Do you, Mr. Potter, trust us?"

Harry met his gaze unfalteringly and after another moment answered, "If you say I can trust you, then I do."  

The goblin blinked and then smiled in a not-so-creepy way and held out his hand, "Then consider it done.  Your new vault will be in use by next week.  You will receive your first inventory statement after we make the move then.  Let me know if there is anything else I can ever do for you, M. Potter."

Harry shook his hand and stood up then.  "Is that all there is then?"

"Unless you have any other business to attend to?"

Harry shook his head, tucked the new moneybag into his pocket and was ushered back out and into the lobby where Lupin and Bill were waiting just outside the door.   

"Everything alright, there Harry?"  Bill asked right away and shot a peeved look at the goblin that had helped Harry.

"Yes, fine.  So, er, how's Fleur?" Harry thought it might be a good thing to change the subject as quickly as possible.  This turned out to be the right one as Bill barely shut up then until Lupin and Harry had to beg off to finally leave Gringotts.

The rest of the afternoon went by in a blur as Harry made several stops including: Flourish & Blotts (for all his books for the next year and several others that caught his eye including the new, deluxe edition of _Hogwarts: A History_ for Hermione), Madam Malkin's (for new robes for the upcoming year), the Apothecary and the cauldron shop (for all his required items for NEWT Potions), and Quality Quidditch Supplies (for a new broomstick polishing kit and a new set of Seeker gloves that caught his eye).  

It was pushing quarter to seven o'clock when Lupin checked his watch and told Harry they had better get started home.  Harry had picked up an expanding shopping bag from a street vendor that had unlimited space inside into which he was able to store all his purchases.  As they passed back by Weasley Wizard Wheezes, Harry noticed the twins' shop had already closed up for the day.  It was the very next shop then, when he saw it.  There in the window, was a shinning silver instrument --just like the one Dumbledore had used to create puffs of green smoke that went into the form of a snake.  The one he had used right after Harry had witnessed Mr. Weasley being bitten before Christmas.  

"Wait!  Professor, wait!"  Harry called to Lupin who was a few steps ahead and hadn't noticed Harry stop.  Harry looked up at the storefront, _Milady's Magical Gadgets_; he tried the front door, but found the door locked.  "Ergh!"  He pounded a fist on the door in frustration.

"What is it, Harry?"  Lupin was back now and looking in the store windows.

"That instrument," Harry said as he pointed to it.  "I want to know what that is.  Do you know?"  

Lupin shook his head, "No.  Can't say that I do.  Why?"

"Nevermind.  I've seen one before, that's all."

As they left The Leaky Cauldron, Lupin was checking his watch again and urging Harry to hurry up.  

"Say, Professor,"

"Remus."

"Er, …"

"Moony?"

Harry laughed, "About that--why didn't you want to tell the twins who the Marauders were back there?  I'm actually surprised they never knew after living around you and Sirius last year."

"Oh that, well, I just didn't fancy explaining the entire story of how the four of us--Peter included--all came to be where we are now, that's all.  Besides, you were right; they should be able to figure it out.  Especially if they've ever seen your Patronus, then they have seen all four at one point or another."

Harry then asked something that he had been wondering for some time now.  "Er, Remus?  Can I ask you something?  You may not want to answer but…"

"Go on Harry.  If I don't want to answer, I won't."

"Well, it's just that, er --did you know, when my parents were preparing to go under the Fidelius, did you know that they suspected you?"  He had wanted to ask ever since Dumbledore had told him the tale leading up to his parents' murders.  

Lupin had slowed to a stop and scratched his forehead, "Yes.  Yes, Harry I did.  I knew it the moment it happened and I curse myself everyday for it."  He turned and looked at Harry before they began to walk again slowly.  "You see, Harry, I only saw Sirius as the only other viable option for who, out of your parents, myself, Sirius and Peter, could have been the one to be a traitor.  I told your father I thought it had to be Sirius.  I saw it in his eyes right then."  

Harry could see Lupin shaking his head sadly at the memory as they walked on.  "James and Sirius were the best of friends.  We were all good friends.  But they were like brothers--closer though.  They actually chose to be brothers and they were as good as.  Well, suggesting that it might be Sirius, Harry, to your father, was the worst thing I ever could have done.  James was insulted and furious at my implication of Sirius.  He went off on me right there.  We got into a bit of a row and both said a lot of things I don't think either of use ever meant."

They both stopped walking and Harry looked at Lupin's face, filled with regret and sorrow.

"Harry, that was the last time I saw your father.  As much as Sirius has ever blamed himself for causing their deaths by suggesting the use of Peter as the Secret-Keeper, I've also blamed myself for jumping to the wrong conclusion and for not going back to try to make amends."  

Harry searched for something to say or do to pass the awkward moment and to make Lupin feel better.  "Well, I'm sure if he could, he'd regret whatever he said.  I don't, you know, I don't blame you.  Or Sirius.  It seemed so simple to hate Sirius when I thought he was this cunning, maniac who sold them out for his own glory.  But, I can't even blame Wormtail now--he just seems like such a coward."  They arrived on the steps of Number 12 and as Harry had his hand on the door, he turned back to Lupin and added, "I blame Voldemort.  He's the one who started it and he's to blame for so many ruined lives.  He's the one I blame."  

Lupin put a hand on Harry's shoulder and said, "Thanks.  It really does mean a lot to hear you say that.  I'm glad you asked that, it feels good to have told you."   They walked in through the door and tiptoed past the portrait of Sirius's mother.  

Harry whispered, "I'm starving.  I'm going to drop these off upstairs and then I'll be down for dinner."

Harry dumped his shopping bag out and onto his bed.  He found the package of books from Flourish and Blotts and unwrapped it.  Hi picked up the new copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and debated whether to bring it down for Hermione now or wait for later.  His stomach gave him the answer as it growled with hunger and he decided to do it later.  He noticed his Firebolt had been returned by McGonagall and was now resting in the corner as he checked his reflection in the mirror one last time before heading out of his room, down the hall and down the stairs.

He was just crossing the second floor landing when he heard a hoot from down the hallway.  _That sounded an awful lot like Pig_.  Harry paused and listened again.  _There_--he heard it again-- the unmistakable sound of chirping hoots and zooming feathers.  Harry turned down the second floor hall and paused as he thought he heard the noises coming from behind the first door on his right.  This was the bedroom that he and Ron had shared last summer.  Harry knocked on the door and then tentatively pushed it open.  

"Pig?"  Harry was answered with a face full of zooming feathers.  "Pffft!" he said as he spat out a few stray feathers from his mouth.  The room was dark and Harry could only hear the crazy owl zooming about and without further ado, Harry pulled his wand and spoke, "_Accio_ Pig."  He reached out and grabbed the ball of feathers as he heard it drawing near.  

Harry carried Pig back out into the hallway and checked the owl over for an attached note.  Harry found none and figured the bird had managed to lose it somewhere.  As his stomach growled again, Harry sent Pig off to fly about and planned to search for the lost letter after dinner.  

It was then, just as he stepped down from the last stair and into the Entry Hall that Harry got the distinct feeling that he was being watched.   He silently pulled his wand and peered into the darkened corners of the Hall, searching for whatever might be lurking.  The torches on the walls grew brighter as he tried to see into the darkness.  He could see nothing.  The only portrait that remained on this floor was the one of Sirius's mother and that one was silent and far over by the entry door.  Even all the stuffed elf-heads were long gone now and Harry could think of nothing that might have eyes with which to be watching him.  

Harry was beginning to think that Moody's paranoia was growing on him, as he couldn't see a thing out of place.  He waved his wand at the door that led down the stairs to the kitchen.  As Harry descended these stairs, however, he still had the feeling of being watched and he noted that he could hear no usual banter from the kitchen below.  Usually both Tonks and Hermione were chattering on incessantly about one thing or another.  Btu Harry strained to listen and could hear nothing.  Not even the scrape of a fork on a plate.  He reached the landing of the stairs and paused again outside the door to the kitchen.  

He could swear then, that he heard a low, muffled voice asking a question, followed by the scrape of a chair against the floor.  He was finally relieved to hear Tonks' voice say, "Remus, I thought you said Harry was coming right down to dinner?"  As he heard this, Harry breathed out a sigh of relief and pushed open the kitchen door and stepped into the room.  

What Harry experienced next, he could only describe as a blur.  There was the immediate release of bright flashes of color and loud cracks from what he later realized were Weasley Wizard Whizbangs (the miniature version, thank god).  There were almost a dozen people shouting out, _"Surprise!!"_, and a bouncing gaggle of whirring Weasley redheads.  

"Hey?  Where'd he go?"  It was George's voice, Harry realized as his heart still raced.  It was sinking in what he had just seen.  What he couldn't figure out, however, was how in the world he got to be back on the landing outside the kitchen door.  

"Potter!  I can see you out there!  Get in here!"  That was Moody's voice and Harry was sure he knew now what--_who_-- had been watching him.  

The door in front of him opened slowly and Harry saw Tonks peer around the door. "Got your buttocks?  Nice disapparition.  I see you've gone ahead and mastered traveling through solid objects.  Now stop standing out here looking like some bright spark.  Get in here, and join the party!" 

Harry felt his arm being yanked and he stumbled into the kitchen.  He was immediately crushed into a hug by whom he assumed was Mrs. Weasley.  He really wasn't sure because he had been struck dumb by being scared witless by all these people yelling at him.  Fred and George were there and slapping him on the back.  Tonks was bobbing around with lime-green hair.  Dobby was cracking back and forth and tossing confetti into the air and on top of people.  Mr. Weasley walked over to shake Harry's hand and even Ginny came over to give Harry a hug.  

He finally managed to create sound with is mouth, "Wh-what? Wh-why? Er, …" He finally shook his head and cleared his throat to ask, "Er, what are we all celebrating?"  Everyone who heard him stopped and looked at him in disbelief.

Fred, looking astounded and holding up a shocked George, breathed out, "Is he serious?"

George answered, "No, he's Harry."  George straightened up and said conversationally, "See Sirius could turn into a dog, Harry here, he is looking more like a fine flobberworm."  He then rounded on Harry and nearly shouted, "What are you _mental?!?!_  _It's your birthday!!!  What do you think we're all celebrating?!?!"_

Harry was dragged over to sit at the head of the table as Mrs. Weasley, as well as Dobby, shoved food before him.  The Whizbangs were still emitting sparklers and miniature Catherine wheels.  There were little phrases being spelled out in the air as a Catherine wheel would whiz by.  One ran in front of Harry's face and spelled, _"His eyes are as a green as a fresh pickled toad."_

Ginny shrieked as she saw it and slammed her fist on the table, "Fred! George!! Damn you two!"  

Fred and George both made to run away from her but stopped first and taunted, "C'mon Gin,--hey we almost got Harry to agree to take you today!"

"Yeah!! But no deal, he wanted money instead!"

Harry could barely make out the blurs as Ginny chased the twins upstairs brandishing her wand.  It was then that he finally realized who was sitting on either side of him: Ron and Hermione.  They were both watching Harry and Ron spoke, "Harry Birthday, mate.  Fred and George told us that you're their new partner and their new advert man."  

"Oh, well, didn't have much choice really."  Harry felt his stomach rumbling now and started eating some of the piles of food before him.  

"Hey, Harry!  Hermione and I worked all day on this!  What do you think?"  Tonks called down from the table where she was sitting next to Moody as she gestured around the kitchen. 

Harry looked about the kitchen again, now that they Whizbangs were dying out (there went one now, spelling out, "_WWW:  Where Harry Potter gets his BANGS!").    _The entire kitchen was draped with streamers and a large sign that said, "Happy Birthday Harry!" on it.  He turned to Hermione by his side and shook his head at her, "You did this?  I can't believe you did this?  Why?"

She looked at him and he felt his stomach flutter as she smiled and said, "Why?  Because, well if Tonks and I didn't do something, then Dobby surely was, and, well, you never know where that would finally end, now do you."

Ron slapped Harry on the back, "Yeah, you got your own one-elf parade with that one, mate.  He's been ordering us all around and making sure everyone was in place and --man, he's a right _tyrant_ when he wants to be!"

The gathering went on for several hours and eventually moved up to the drawing room for the later part of the evening.  Harry eventually saw that Professor's McGonagall and Dumbledore were also in attendance and they spent most of the night watching the amusing antics of the Weasley family and chatting with Lupin, Bill, Arthur and Moody.  

Moody had caught up to Harry as the group was making its way up to the drawing room and asked him, "How'd you know something was going on?  I saw you pull your wand and look about up in the Entry Hall--what gave it away?"

Harry was slightly creeped out by the thought of being watched unknowingly by Moody's magical eye and didn't hesitate to answer, "I could _feel_ you watching me."  He was satisfied to see a surprised look on the old man's knarled face and added, "That, and as I walked down the kitchen stairs I couldn't hear Tonks rankling a storm."  

Moody nodded approvingly at Harry as he trudged up the stairs with his walking stick.  "Well, good on you, boy!"  He leaned in closer to Harry and said, "Nice bit there of apparating.  Good instincts, you got.  I was thinking you'd put up a shield but your way was just as fine, better, even."  

The night wore on and Harry, even as he was growing tired and stuffed, was given two birthday cakes, (one made by Dobby and one by Mrs. Weasley) and found several gifts piled on the drawing room table.  Fred and George only returned to join the party after an hour or so of trying to reverse several hexes courtesy of Ginny.  When Harry saw Ginny smirk at their faces covered in fur and green spots, he asked, "Er, Gin, aren't you expecting an owl now from the Ministry?  Like from one Mafalda Hopkirk?"  She looked at him in confusion and he went on, "Like for underage magic and all?" 

Fred snickered at Harry, "He knows them by name in that office!"

"Oh shut it you! Nice ears by the way."  Fred's ears were pointy like a house elf's and Harry turned back worriedly towards Ginny.  "Well?"

Ginny looked completely unconcerned as she perched herself on the arm of a chair, crossed her arms and said simply, "Dad said Headquarters is now unplottable, even to the Ministry's tracking charms.  They can't detect what goes on in here.  I can hex whomever I want."

Fred and George were muttering oaths at Ginny as they turned to their mother and for help.  "Oh!  What in Merlin's name happened to--nevermind.  _Out with you_.  _I'm sure you deserved it_.  Well, you two are on your own now, so take care of it yourselves!"  She bustled on with arranging her cake on the table and began cutting and placing slices on plates.   

_"Mum!"  _

"What about _Ginny!!_ She did this!"

"Out!! You should have thought about that before you did whatever you did to her!  Now, Harry dear, take a piece of cake. Here you go." She shoved a plate into Harry's hands as he fell back into the armchair where Ginny was perched.   

"What's up with those two."  Harry heard Ginny whisper in his ear as she nudged him to look over down by the fireplace.  There, on two separate sofas, and sitting across from each and both determinedly not looking at the other, sat Ron and Hermione.  "Ron's been cutting on her all summer.  _'Hermione this'_ and _'Hermione that'_ and even saying how he is happy to not have nearly any classes with her this next year.  It was even worse when he got your letter listing all the classes _you_ still had with her.  _What is up with them?"_

Harry turned to Ginny and stared at her in disbelief, _"What?!"_  She nodded confirmation and he mused as he watched them sit stoically across the room, "Well, she did just mention about him not writing to her."  He turned back to Ginny and explained, "Hermione asked me if Ron had written me back at all since she sent our scores to him.  Of course he did and I wrote him then, too-- and you as well.  I took it that he never wrote her back.  I know she's mad because he's only taking slack courses this year."  Crookshanks leapt up on Harry's lap and began to lick the frosting off of the slice of cake he was still holding.  Harry set the cat and the plate on the floor and stood back up and beckoned Ginny to follow him over to the hallway.  

Harry made sure no one was about them and whispered, "Hermione's afraid he pantsed his exams.  She's afraid he might have failed one and, well, you know how she is.  She also said he had her helping him all last spring to study for the OWLs and now he isn't taking any of the courses that she helped him in.  Have you seen how he did?  I think he would have told me if he messed them up _that_ bad..."

Ginny was shaking her head, "No, he had to have passed Defense, Charms and Transfiguration.  He can do magic just like anyone else who had to pass those OWLs.  It _has_ to be something else!"  She narrowed her eyes as she looked at Harry, "Harry, didn't you ever think, well, that, _you know_, Ron and Hermione, they might… _you know?"  _

Harry didn't know.  "What?"

_"Fancy each other?"  _

"We sure did!"  Fred and George made both Harry and Ginny jump as they snuck up behind them and spoke up.

"Yup, no doubt about that one.  Well, at least Ronnikins, that is.  They bicker like an old married couple!"

"Surely, you noticed Harry?"

Harry was feeling faint and really had thought perhaps there _might_ have been something way back in fourth year.  But last year he had way too much else happening in his own life to notice anything other than that they were always bickering.  He peered through the door to the drawing room and could see Ron sitting there, sullen, on the very sofa against which he had Hermione pressed against the night before as he had been getting on with her.  _What the bloody hell have you done now, Potter?_

"Hey, you got a hair cut!"  George ruffled Harry's already ruffled hair and gave him a look up and down.  "You finally grew into your clothes too!"  

Fred turned to Ginny, "Hey, Gin, did _you_ notice Harry's new haircut?"

The twins had disapparated with a crack as Ginny pulled her wand and Harry was left standing in the hall with a seething Ginny.    

"Do you, do you think they … you know, have something going on?"  He spoke quietly, almost a whisper, but Harry had to know.  _He_ had been the one who had started kissing Hermione.  _She was kissing you back, too_.  But he still had to know.  

Ginny pocketed her wand back and looked shrewdly at Harry, "You don't know?"  He shook his head with dread welling in his stomach.  "Well, I don't know about her, but I know--_for a fact_-- that Ron definitely was crushing on her.  Last summer, the twins gave Ron a dress robe and I heard him in his room when he was alone trying it on and thought no one could hear, muttering something about, now that he had those robes, Hermione 'wouldn't have to go with some other git like Krum'."  She mocked Ron's voice as she relayed this.  

"But--you don't know…?"

"About Hermione?  No.  I asked her plenty of time last year but she always denied anything to do with him.  I don't think she'd tell me if there was anything.  I think she would keep it to herself.  She was always very vague."

Harry felt some relief but not much.  There was still the problem of his two best friends sitting in there, and staunchly not looking at each other.  "So, what do I do now?" he voiced out loud.

Ginny just looked at him, "I dunno.  They're your friends.  Have fun!" she cried brightly as she went back into the room and picked herself up a slice of cake.

  
  



	13. Chapter 16 The Best Birthday and the Mor...

  
Chapter 16. The Best Birthday and the Morning After

As soon as Harry stepped back into the drawing room, Ron sprang up and pestered Harry to open his gifts.  Reluctantly, Harry was forced to sit at the table as a large, long package, wrapped with dragons flying about on the wrapping paper, was shoved before him.  He opened the present to find a brand new pair of dragon hide boots—just like the ones Bill wore, inside.  It was a gift that all the Weasleys had chipped in to buy as well as Lupin and Tonks.  It was the twins' idea: originally they wanted to get Harry a dragon hide jacket matching the ones they had, but Bill suggested that they at least do something a bit more practical (and not so gaudy).  

The boots, Harry was told, would repel minor curses and spells and, if worn with the tops unrolled and pulled up and over his knees, would even render him nearly immune to many curses aimed at the legs, such as Jelly-Legs Jinxes, Trip Jinxes, and would help him to keep the use of his legs and feet even when hit with a Full-Body Bind.    And of course, Bill said, they were frightfully stylish and real bird magnets (He had leaned over and confessed that after only two dates, Fleur had suggested that she would love to see Bill wearing _only_ his boots.)  

Ron had tried to get Harry to play a game of wizard's chess but Harry declined and excused himself saying that he wanted to go find Dobby and thank him for doing so much that day.  Really, Harry was feeling the need to just get away.  The cacophony of a room full of Fred, George, Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, (as well as others) was starting to fray his nerves.  

Harry escaped down to the kitchens and found Dobby and Winky at the kitchen table seated and talking with Professor Dumbledore and Hermione.  

"Hello Harry.  Did you have a good trip into Diagon Alley today?" 

"Yes, sir.  Thank you, for arranging it.  I assume you arranged it, anyway."  Harry slid into a chair next to Hermione and nodded to the headmaster.

"Harry Potter is having a good birthday, yes?"  Dobby cracked over to stand upon the chair beside Harry.

Harry smiled at him, "Yes, Dobby.  Actually, I can down to find you, to thank you for all you did.  Thank you. Dobby."  He turned and added, "And you as well, Winky.  I know you both must have worked very hard."  Dobby beamed at the compliment and Winky seemed to blush, as well, at the praise.  

"Oh yes, I nearly forgot.  Harry, I have a letter here from Hagrid.  He sends his regrets for not being able to attend today.  He had some other, _matters, to attend to."  Dumbledore pulled out a small envelope from his deep sapphire robes and handed it over to Harry.  _

Harry opened the letter and read:

_Dear Harry, _

_Happy Birthday!  Sorry I can't make it to your party but I'm finally making fine progress with Grawp and Madame Maxine is visiting here now and has been helping loads with him.  I got your gift here.  It is not something I can send along to you now so you will get it when you get back here to Hogwarts.  _

_You finally get a birthday away from the muggles.  Just make sure you enjoy it.  Let me know when the Celebration will be for Sirius.  I owe him a heap of thanks for all he did for Beaky._

_Take Care, _

_Hagrid _

Harry smiled at the letter from Hagrid but then began to frown as he wondered what kind of gift would have been difficult to send now.  He hoped it didn't bite like some of the previous gifts from Hagrid.  He handed the letter to Hermione and hesitantly asked, "So, Professor, have you met Hagrid's brother?"  

Dumbledore only smiled as he answered, "Why yes, I have.  Quite a rambunctious fellow, but a fine young man."

Harry saw Hermione's jaw drop to the table and he himself was having problems believing his ears.

_"Professor!"_  Hermione regained the power of speech first.  "Er, don't you think he's a tad … er, well …_dangerous?"_

Harry wasn't sure what the word was to describe Grawp but he was sure it wasn't 'a fine young man'.  Dumbledore answered Hermione, "Well, there will always be those who see anyone or anything who _can_ do harm, as being dangerous, irregardless of whether it will indeed _be a danger.  That choice is up the individual."_

"But Professor, when we saw him—"

"He was acting upon the only instincts he had with the only knowledge he had.  It's been a number of years that the Giants have been in exile.  Their race and culture has been in a mere survival mode for many of those years and has not afforded younger generations with the knowledge that the rest of us take for granted."

He leaned forward onto the table and templed his hands, "Tell me, Ms. Granger, why is it that you started your movement for the improvement of the Elves' welfare?"

Hermione looked taken aback and answered slowly, "Well, that's, well, _they're slaves_.  Enslaved by wizards.  Not free."  She paused in talking and stared at Professor Dumbledore.  "Their race can't recall what freedom is.  They were not always enslaved.  I read about it and how they were oppressed at the same time of the Goblins.  The Goblins, however, were able to fight and rebel.  The Elves remain enslaved today."

Harry was frowning, "That wasn't in History of Magic."  At least not a class in which he was awake.

Hermione turned to Harry and went on, "Of course not.  No wizards had to die to keep the Elves enslaved.  They died when the Goblins rebelled, though.  History of Magic is really just History of Wizards.  Haven't you ever heard that history is only told by the winners?  The stories of those who lost in history aren't important to those who remain after the fight.  Of course we'd never hear how _we_ oppressed a race, especially one that still serves us!"  She nearly spat out the last few words and Harry was relieved to see that Dobby and Winky were both nowhere to be seen.

Dumbledore nodded approvingly at her and said, "You are quite right, Ms. Granger.  However, the Elves are not the only race that is still oppressed by wizards.  Giants, because of their abilities to be able to cause us great harm and cause destruction, have been forced into exile because of the actions of a few.  Now, their entire race suffers the stigma and struggles just to survive."  He sighed heavily and went on, "We prevent them from living in their indigenous lands and then we condemn them for destroying the lands they do inhabit.  We prevent them from being able to develop a society able to educate itself and then condemn them for not seeming of equal intelligence.  We condemn them for the very reasons we have helped created."

Hermione was silent at this and Harry was already imagining that S.P.G.W. or some other catchier group would soon be her new pet cause.  Dumbledore went on, "Hagrid, perhaps unwisely so at the time, but nonetheless, brought his half-brother back from that place where we he suffering from not only the oppression of being of the Giant's race, but also being mistreated for being different and not as fit to survive.  In a culture where only the fittest can survive, he had not a lot of hope. Now, with the chance to get away from those who've mistreated him and with help to learn how to communicate his needs and how to act with others, he, finally, can feel he has hope to _live.  That's a very powerful gift Hagrid gave him."  _

Harry couldn't help but feel a sudden soft spot with Grawp.  Dumbledore added one last thought as he rose from the table, "Of course, the nature of all living creatures assures us he will not be content to just live a life alone.  I believe Hagrid and Madame Maxine are working on finding a suitable mate so that he might _enjoy life.  Well," Dumbledore laid a hand on Harry's shoulder, "I must be off now."  He peered over his half-moon glasses at Harry, "I do hope you've had a good birthday, Harry."_

Harry gave a smile as he considered it, "I think I have, sir.  I think I have."  

"Good then.  I'll see you tomorrow night."  Dumbledore nodded and disapparated with a soft 'pop'.  

Harry turned back to the table to see Hermione rereading the letter from Hagrid.  She asked him, "Harry, what do you think it could be that he couldn't send along with Professor Dumbledore?"

"I dunno.  Last year he gave me a furry wallet that bit anyone that tried to open it.  I just hope it's not the matching satchel."

Hermione looked up at him, horrified.  

Harry narrowed his eyes and decided to take advantage of having her alone for a moment, "So."  Her eyebrows raised and he went on, "Are you going to tell me what's going on with Ron?"  

She looked surprised for a moment and then a deep scowl took over her face.  "I'm sorry Harry, I know he's still one of your best friends, but right now I can't believe I ever considered that _arse_ a friend!"

_Did Hermione just curse?  _

"Ergh!  I can't believe he is supposed to be staying here the rest of the summer!  I'll go mad with him here!"  She pounded the table in frustration.

_The rest of the summer?_  Harry felt a jolt of dread at the idea of having to share his newfound solitude with the Weasleys.  It wasn't that he didn't like them; he loved them.  They were as close to family as he really had now.  But, like tonight, he could only take them for so long right now.  He was grateful that he at least had his own room now.

He ventured to ask for details, "So, er, why exactly aren't you two speaking to each other?"

Hermione did the last thing he expected and dropped her head into her hands and took a deep breath that sounded like she was trying not to cry. 

"Er, I mean, I'm just guessing.  It rather looked like you didn't want to speak to each other.  I might be wrong.  Am I?"  Harry had no clue what to do with a Hermione like this.

She looked up at him with her eyes shinning and pleading, "Oh Harry, I don't know what to do!"  

He reached out in what he felt was an awkward attempt to comfort her and, instead, found her flinging her arms around his neck.  He moved his own arms around her and it was only a few seconds before he forgot he was supposed to be comforting her and he was just thinking about how brilliant it felt to hold her and breathe in the scent of her hair.  

After a few minutes, Hermione sniffed again and drew back and asked in a low, tentative voice, "Harry do you remember what we said last night about—"

Just then they were startled to hear the sound of footsteps coming down the kitchen stairs.  They slipped apart and Harry stood up as they could hear Mrs. Weasley's voice muttering, "…they think they know what they're doing!  As if they could ever know—Oh!  Harry dear, and Hermione.  Here you both are.  It's quite late and you kids ought to be getting to bed now."  

She bustled in with the remaining cake and several dirty plates as Winky followed her doggedly, saying, "Yous isn't to be doing that!  That's elf work, that is!  Ms. Wheezy, _you is not a elf!"_

  Hermione had also stood up and Mrs. Weasley gave Harry another crushing hug and wished him a happy birthday again before Harry and Hermione headed up the stairs to leave Mrs. Weasley to go back to muttering.  

As they started up the stairs in the Entry Hall, Harry asked, "So what were you saying abou—"

"Harry!"  The twins were bounding down the stairs.

"Jolly good!  There's our man!"  

"Hey mate, we need to talk to you quick before we pop on out."  George gave Hermione a look that said they wanted a private chat with Harry and she rolled her eyes at them and told Harry, "We can talk later.  Good night Harry." as she turned to walk on up the stairs.  

"All right, Harry," said George as he pulled Harry off and into the dining room.  

"We have one last gift, or two, to give you."  Fred's eyes were bright with mischief.

"Yeah, couldn't let Mum see it though.  Or anyone else for that matter."  Said George as he dug into his robes.  He pulled out a rectangular box that read '_Paopyr's Fine Parchments'.  He handed the box furtively over to Harry._

"You got me parchment?"  Harry thought this was a little absurd for the twins; unless it was all the parchment they never used when the skived off homework the last few years.

George and Fred shared a look and Fred answered knowingly, "When a young man turns sixteen—"

"It's really a milestone age."

"There are certain rights of passage."

"It's the last year you have before you're a real adult."

"It's important to make that last year a worthy one."

"Now as Bill did for Charlie and Charlie did for us, we—"

"--Gred and Forge—"

"—wish to do for you."  George then motioned for Harry to open the box.  

Harry opened the top of the box and saw a bottle of some sort and pulled it partway out to reveal, _'Ogden's Fine Firewhiskey'.  "Er…"  Harry looked up at Fred and George, unknowing what to say._

They just nodded knowingly, yet again, "You don't have to thank us."

"Your silence is thanks enough."

"We'd love to help you use it all, but—"

"We just can't risk it here with Mum."

Just then the sound of Mrs. Weasley coming up from the kitchen and going up the stairs, still muttering away, made the twins freeze and they all waited around the corner in the dining room, for her to pass.

"We need to leave.  She'll be looking for you in no time." Fred rushed on.

"Yeah, tuck it into your robes and don't let her near it."  George was looking warily around the corner.

"You'll find the other thing we left for you sooner or later!"  Said Fred as he helped Harry make sure the box didn't show from under his robe.

"Hopefully sooner." George said as he waggled his eyebrows.

The sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice cut in then again, "Harry!"

The twins stiffened, and with a salute to Harry, disapparated with a _'crack'_.

"Cheers."  Harry said to himself as he trudged up the stairs to go to bed.

Mrs. Weasley was waiting with her hands on her hips at the main floor landing.  "You should be off to bed now."  Harry was taken aback by her stern voice and he slowed as he came to the landing.  She seemed to soften though as she backed up and moved to usher him down the hall, "Ron's already in bed now, dear, so just head on in."

Harry was just about to explain that his room was now on the top floor when Tonks came out of the drawing room carrying the box with Harry's new dragonhide boots.  "Wotcher, Harry!  I was just about to take these up to your room."  Tonks stopped and lifted the top on the box.  She shook her head and gave a whistle as she looked inside, "Can't wait to see these on you.  Make sure you wear those tomorrow.  Ought to give Shack a shock when you don't lose a step when hit with a Body-Bind!"

Mrs. Weasley gave the boots look of censure, as she had been all night, when Ron opened his door, "Harry!  There you are, mate.  Thought you might have went and hid on us again."

"Ronald!  It's well past your bedtime!"  Mrs. Weasley rounded on him.

Ron just waved her off, "Go on Mum, we'll be up all night talking anyway."

But Harry gave a great, huge yawn just then, and Mrs. Weasley wouldn't back down, "Harry's had a long day and he needs his sleep!"  She turned back to Harry, "Now c'mon dear, off to sleep."

Tonks threaded her arm through Harry's and turned with him towards the hall to go on up the top floor, "I'll help him and make sure he doesn't nod off on the way!"

They only took two steps when Ron asked, "Where do you think you're going?"

"Nymphadora, you're not making him try those on now!  The boy needs his rest."  Mrs. Weasley was looking like if she could, she would pick Harry right up, cradle him, rock him to sleep, and then tuck him into a crib.  

Harry had enough, "Hold up!"  He held up his hands and looked between Ron and Mrs. Weasley.  "I am _trying_ to get to—" he was caught by another yawn, "—bed if you would all just let me!  Ron—my room is upstairs now.  You get your own room now when you stay here.  Mrs. Weasley—my room is that way," as he pointed up at the stairs.  

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment, and then went on in a quieter tone, "Thank you all for a such a brilliant birthday.  I can' tell you what it means.  But it's been a _very_ long day and tomorrow's set to be even longer.  Good night."  Harry turned and climbed the stairs with Tonks quietly following him.  

Tonks was quiet until they reached Harry's room and she set the box down on the foot bench by his bed.  "So, who's all mad at who?  It's right clear Ron's brassed at Hermione—"

"I don't know.  I really am tired so right now I just don't care."  Harry was trying to clear off his bed of the packages from his earlier shopping in Diagon Alley.  He had been up since six-thirty that morning and barely slept the night before.  His eyes were getting bleary and the voices had struck up a lullaby in his head.

As he tossed the last package off his bed and onto the bench, he looked up to see Tonks grinning at him.  "You look like you're sozzeled."  

That reminded Harry to pull up the twin's gift from inside his robes, too.  He slipped off his robe and set down the box. Tonks grinned even wider at the '_Paopyr's Fine Parchments' box.  "You let me know if you need any help using up that paper."  She winked and went on, "I'm heading out tonight; be back tomorrow night for the meeting but I won't see you until next Tuesday.  That's my normal day off and I'll be here to work with you then.  Maybe sometimes-on Saturday's to spy on old Moody, too.  _

"Speaking of which, that perimeter charm—he wants to test your awareness next—I suggest you _sleep_ with the charm up from now on.  It's '_Divellipromptus' and you just draw your wand around and trace the area you wish to monitor.  You'll get a shiver or something when someone breaks in through the ward.  You can work it so you get different alerts for different people and such—" she broke off as Harry yawned yet again and swayed on his feet.  "Well, anyway, you should get to bed—see you later!"  _

Harry gave a half-hearted wave as she left the room.  He peeled off his t-shirt as he walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out his pyjama bottoms.  He toed off his shoes and was just unbuttoning his jeans as he heard a gasp from the doorway.  He looked up to see Hermione searching the floor and turning crimson, "I'll – er – I just—I mean …" she turned around and Harry hastily rebuttoned his jeans and went over to her.  He checked down the hallway and pulled her in by the elbow.

He whispered hastily, "We need to talk." as he quietly closed the door.  

Hermione was not meeting his face so he went on, pleading, "Please tell me what the story is on Ron.  Nearly everyone's had something to say about it and –"

Hermione looked up at this, "What are they saying?"

Harry looked uncomfortable and shifted on his feet and answered, "Well, what they're saying is – it's not so much what they say as what they think really.  Or maybe they're just guessing, they could be wrong."

"Harry!  What are they saying?" Hermione had him fixed with a worried look.

Harry stepped back for safety and answered, "They think, well, they think, that, maybe, perhaps, that Ron fancies you.  Fred and George do at least.  And Ginny."  

Hermione's face was unreadable as she asked in what Harry construed as a slightly dangerous tone, "And what do you think?"

"Er, well, it's to say, at least, that I probably wouldn't be one to know much at all," he swallowed and wondered at how his mouth could go dry so quickly, "I was being a, er raving prat much of last year and really wasn't paying much attention to anyone else and so if he were, to, er, _fancy_, er, anyone that is, I probably wouldn't know."  That sounded good he thought.

Hermione nodded once.  He went on, "But I think I thought he might have had a _tad_ crush in fourth year.  After the Yule Ball and all?  With Viktor and…" Her look was back to dangerous and Harry stopped in fear.  

She was silent and Harry couldn't tell whether she was seething mad or about to cry.  He whispered a meek, "Please don't cry."  He would much rather she'd be mad; he didn't do well with sobbing girls.

She laughed, "Oh Harry, I am not about to cry over _him.  I can promise you that."  She looked thoughtful then, "Although I did think he was my friend.  But I guess I was wrong there."_

_"Why?"_  Harry asked as he sat back on the edge of his bed. Hermione moved to sit on the bed, too and Harry then moved back and crossed his legs in front of him.  Hermione did they same, facing Harry.  "Why don't you think you are friends anymore?  We've all been best friends since – _forever.  What happened?"  Harry pulled a pillow from behind him and put it in his lap as he leaned forward, eager to hear the explanation for his best friends' behavior._

Hermione started, 'Well, remember the curse that Ron was under that night at the Ministry?  The Inebriation Jinx?"  Harry hadn't known what it was called but definitely remembered how it made Ron act.  He nodded and she went on, "Well, after we were all portkeyed back to Hogwarts and to the hospital wing, I was the one in the worst condition and they revived me before they were able to work on him.  I don't recall where anyone else was but Ron and I were with Madam Pomfrey in a back room.  They had to do a lot of work to stabilize him from the attack by the brain, before they could even begin to remove the jinx."  Her and Harry shared an inappropriate smile at hearing those words voiced out loud together.  _Ron was attacked by a brain._  

Hermione continued, "Well, he was cognizant enough to know that I had been severely injured and there he was, blabbering on in the next bed.  He must have heard them talking about what I'd been hit with and, well, how, _close, it had been for me."  _

She watched Harry get a pained look on his face and covered is hand with her own as she spoke again, "Well, after I was revived and awake, she wouldn't let me go to sleep for a few hours; she wanted to check on me every few minutes and make sure there were no other internal injuries.  Madam Pomfrey really is very good—but anyway.  She went to work on Ron next then— I watched as she tried to free him of the thought scars and their remaining tendrils—it really is fascinating that thoughts are so—"  

Harry raised his eyes at her near derailing of the story and she sat up straight, took her hand away from his and shook her hair back and then got back on track, "Anyway, after she had the thoughts removed, she could only then begin to remove the jinx.  But before she did, she had to make a fire call to St. Mungo's for some Dr. Ubbly's Oblivious Unction.  When she left…" she trailed off.

Harry flipped the pillow from his lap to behind his head and leaned back against the headboard.  "And?" he prompted.

Hermione moved over so he could stretch out his legs and she rolled over onto her stomach in the middle of the bed.  She was fiddling with the pattern on the duvet and biting her lower lip.  She mumbled something incoherent and Harry had to ask her, "What was that?"

She buried her head on her arms and this time Harry could decipher her muffled voice, "He said he was in love with me."

Harry had a mental image of Ron saying, _'Guess what Hermione, I saw Uranus.  Know what else?  I think I love you…' Harry had to stifle a snort at the thought and Hermione snapped her head up to see his eyes shinning with amusement._

"It's not funny!  How would _you_ feel if Ron told you he was in love with you?"  

Harry burst into giggles and whacked his head on the headboard as had thrown it back in mirth.  He was rubbing the back of his head now and still grinning and chuckling, "But, I still don't … I mean, so why … the whole thing now, though?"  He spoke between laughs as Hermione glared at his enjoyment of the story, thus far.

"Oh Harry, that isn't even the worst part!"  This shut Harry up and she went on, "He kept going on and on then about how he thought I was the only one for him and how every time he argues with me, he has to restrain himself from—" she shivered in repulsion as she said, "—_snogging_ me!  On and on!  Even when Madam Pomfrey came back, he kept saying how he always knew he would marry me and that we'd have a dozen children, all with red hair—_it was awful!!"_

Harry's mouth was open now in shock.  Hermione said, "It was _embarrassing."  Her voice dropped to a whisper as she said, _"He even tried to get out of bed to kiss me!"_  Her face looked horrified and pleading at the same time.  Harry felt a pleading of his own, in his mind, as he hoped Hermione didn't think of him like that after he had kissed her._

"Thank god that Madam Pomfrey stopped him from getting out of bed.  I couldn't have moved to stop him if he tried.  Oh Harry, I had hoped that he would forget everything that he had said—that it was just the jinx or some few misguided remaining thoughts—but, well, the jinx lets you remember everything—not like if you really were inebriated!"  

"Right before we were let to leave the hospital wing, he pulled me aside—I thought he might try to kiss me again but, thank god, he only wanted to talk.  He tried to tell me that it was the curse that made him delirious and that if he had said anything that he never meant it and I should disregard whatever he said."  Harry was very relieved to hear this and Hermione saw him breath a sigh of relief, "Yes, I was relieved, too.  However," she was back to worrying her lower lip again and continued softly, "he must have seen how relieved I looked then and well, I now know, after looking up the jinx in some books, that what he had said wasn't from being delirious but it was really what he felt, but could say it because he was without his inhibitions.  Oh, he knew exactly _everything_ he had said—I'm sure of it!  And when he saw me look relieved at having an excuse to forget the whole incident, he blew up!  

"He got all steamed and said I didn't have to look so relieved to hear that and if his presence was so unbearable for me, that he could make sure I'd never have to be around him again.  He was awful!  He kept saying awful things about me and about Viktor—he was really hurtful."

Harry couldn't believe this, "Like what?  What did he say?"

Hermione just looked down and shook her head.  Harry felt a swell of anger towards Ron for being hurtful towards her; she had been their best friend for five years and Harry wondered how Ron could ever turn on her like that.  He could see Hermione really didn't want to repeat what he had said and he told her, "It's okay.  You don't have to tell me.  But why was he flaming Krum?"

"Oh, well, he thought I was still seeing him."  She looked at Harry and added quickly, "But I wasn't.  I never really was.  I told him it would never work when we lived so far apart and I was still in school.  But well, Ron was always so riled by thinking I was still seeing him that I never bothered to tell him otherwise.  Ron thought the reason I wouldn't be interested in him, was because I was still with Viktor.  But, then I told him that wasn't true.  I told him it wasn't Viktor who I fancied at all.  

"He got all belligerent and tried to push me to say who it could be then.  Oh, he is _such an infuriating arse!  He felt he had the __right to know in whom I was interested!  He said he _ought_ to know and all—oh, I lost it then and told him that there was no one else and that I would rather live alone the rest of my life than with such a moronic prat as him."  Hermione looked sheepish now, "I guess he didn't like that at all."_

Harry was still caught up on the part where it sounded like she had meant that there _had_ been someone she fancied.  "So, were you lying?"

Hermione looked indignant, "What!  No!  I would never like him!  Harry, we really do only barely get along and that's always probably just been because we're both your friends.  You see how we are!  I swear he's only grown to be _less mature over all these years!"_

"No, that's not what I meant, I mean," Harry was relieved to hear that she definitely was in no way interested at all in Ron like that but there was still that one questions, "were you lying about saying there really was no one else who you, er, fancied, I mean…?"  He realized it was over a month ago and her feelings for someone might have changed since then but he had to know.

Hermione rolled over on her back away from Harry.  She flung her arm over her head and Harry was temporarily devoid of all thoughts but those focusing on the curves of her body through the thin, white t-shirt she was wearing, that, with her arm over her head like that, was currently being stretched to be rather revealing.   

He was brought crashing out of his staring when she answered, "Yes."  She took a deep breath and said, "There is.  But I couldn't tell him that."  

_'There is.'  _Her words reverberated in his head.  ***Is* means *still*.  Her voice sounded hollow as it echoed in his head and he was barely listening as she started rambling.**

"In fact, I don't think I really even realized it until he got me thinking about it.  Thinking about what it would be like to fancy your best friend and all.  It really got me thinking, you know?  I started to realize that, well, maybe I could see myself with someone like that, you know, someone who knew everything about me already and someone who I already knew all about.  I was thinking then, too, about how ridiculous you were about Cho and all last year.  I mean she knew nothing about you, really, and she was a wreck herself.  She really was all wrong for you, you know?  Add on top of that, her hang up on Cedric and, well, you were doomed from the start."

Harry hadn't heard a word she was saying but caught the name 'Cedric' and asked, "Huh?"

Hermione went on as she stared at the back of her arm, "So I began to think that maybe we would be good together, you know, right for each other and all.  I mean not in such a –"

Harry was awake as ever and he wanted to know who this was who Hermione really fancied, "Who?"  He could just imagine some Ravenclaw or other who she kept seeing in the library and at—

His thoughts were cut off when she rolled back over onto her stomach and looked at him, "Harry—haven't you been listening?  You!  I thought…" As she trailed off looking at his eyes widen in surprise, her own eyes were beginning to moisten.

Harry was trying to recall the words she had spoke up to this point.  He could feel his mouth drop as he began piecing it together, "Me?  You think … me?  I mean, you –do you?"  He didn't want to hope, but he did.

Hermione struggled to push back any tears and rushed on, "Well, it's not like I've thought it all through, but I kind of think, that yes, we might be okay and that I do think, you know, that we, you know, if you were to think you might want to, that is.  Do you?  Have you ever thought about it?"  

Harry had never heard her make less sense than the last time she went into an in depth explanation of a transfiguration theorem.  He asked, "Think what, exactly?"

She rolled back and repositioned herself to sitting and drew her knees up to her chin in an effort to protect herself from feeling vulnerable and asked, "_Me._  Do you think you would ever like me?  Like that.  Fancy, that is, I mean.  Do you?"  She looked down at her knees as she finished.

The elation he felt as he grasped what they were both stammering about was welling inside him and he sat up and leaned over on his arm so he could look at her face.  He fought the urge to grin like an idiot and said, "Hermione, look at me.  You think, you mean, that you think you may want to fancy me?  Right?"  She gave a weak nod and he lost the fight to hide his grin as he drew hand arm away from her knees to held onto her hand.   

Her hopeful eyes looked into his own and she began to stammer and babble some more.  "It's not like I've just been _pining_ away for years, but it's more…" on and on she went and he felt a warm surge of elation erupt within him; all his own; from no one else.  It was a warmth and glow that Voldemort could not take away from him no matter what.  It grew from the knowledge that as he inched closer to her, that this next kiss, would, most definitely, not be their last.

Harry was still gazing into Hermione's eyes as his lips first touched to hers, stopping whatever word she was about to say from ever being voiced.   They kissed tentatively at first, as they both kept their eyes open and fixed upon each other.  The well of warmth within him would grow whenever he would look into her eyes.  He even had a fleeting thought that if one could read minds; or emotions, by looking into another's eyes, then perhaps what he kept feeling was, indeed, something a little like love.  

Hermione ran a hand into his hair and Harry let his eyes close at the sensation.  He leaned back into her hand and found himself falling back on the pillows and pulling Hermione to fall back with him.  He rolled to his side and they lay facing each other, and Harry tipped his forehead to hers and smiled wryly and said, "I think I might be able to live with this."

The feeling of warmth, hope and utter comfort surrounded them as Hermione snuggled her face into Harry's shoulders and held him to her.  Harry closed his eyes to revel in the feel and that's how they fell asleep, to end the best birthday, Harry had ever had.  

---------------------------------------------------------------------

_*   *   *  * I'm not ending two chapters like this (fluffy and mushy, I mean) in a row.  So, here's some more.   Two chapter for the price of one, really.  *   *   *   *_

--------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry was dreaming a quite brilliant dream that, for the second night in a row, had absolutely nothing to do with the ever-present voices that lived in his head.  It was _wonderful.  It felt _spectacular_.  It was better than flying on his Firebolt, with not a bludger in the sky.  He dreamed of moaning in pleasure and leaned into the burning presence he felt pressing against him.  _

His dream intensified as the presence beside him moaned along with him.  He always remembered these dreams quite vividly after having them and there was always an immense disappointment to wake up from one, alone and in need of a cleaning and drying charm, or even worse, a shower and silencing spell.  He knew he was having one of _these dreams and he sensed a voice in his head, a little like when he was practicing Occlumency; saying that if he just tried to steer the dream in the direction he wanted, then at least he could enjoy whatever he dreamed, whilst he could.  _

He held on tight to the other half that seemed to complete him and he found, if he tried and concentrated, he could nearly smell a deliciously fruity smell and feel wisps of hair tickling his nose.  He moved his hands, eagerly mapping the curves and contours of the body he was pressed against.  They lay, spooning, as hand moved up and down the side of the woman in front of him and he pressed against her in slow rhythm to his exploring hand.  

She moaned again and her body was pressing back against his own, furthering him into a delirious frenzy, and she twined her arm back around and pulled his head into to the crook of her neck.  He began to lick and taste, to kiss and suck as she encouraged him by running fingers through his hair.  Her arm being over her head, had now left him with even more unmapped territory, over which to run his hands, which slipped beneath her shirt.  Her back arched as his fingers glanced over the slight swell of the side of her breast and she moaned again.  His hand slid forward to cup her breast and he kneaded it while running his thumb across the hardening nipple.  

"Oh Harry." she breathed.  The sound of his own name made him eager to make sure he wasn't left disappointed after this dream.  He slipped his other arm beneath her and began using both hands to explore and feel her.  Her head tipped back against his shoulder and he took advantage of her fully exposed neck and spread his kisses out to taste as much of her as he could and then placed one hand on her hip to hold her in place as he pressed himself feverishly against her.

The dream broke abruptly as the sound of a shrill voice calling, "Harry, dear!  Up for breakfast!  Are you up dear?"  The sharp rap on the door had Harry flying out of bed and pulling his wand to seal the door in a flash, but he found it wasn't necessary as, with a _'crack!'_, Dobby had appeared in the room and was pointing his finger and a shimmering light at the closed door.  

Harry could hear Mrs. Weasley trying to turn the doorknob and then cry out, "Ow!" and sharply pull back.  

She knocked again, more insistent this time, "Harry?  Are you awake?  It's time for breakfast and then we can all have a day in Diagon Alley.  Ron and Ginny need their school things.  Dear, are you up?"  He even heard her whisper, _"Alohamora!"_ followed by a _'ting!' from the other side of the door.  _

Harry cast a silencing charm on the room and looked at Hermione, wide-eyed on his bed.  _That wasn't a dream, idiot.  He knew they were both in deep trouble if Mrs. Weasley found them in there.  Despite the silencing charm, he still whispered, "Dobby, keep her out!  Get rid of her if you can!"  Harry saw Dobby nod and continue pointing at the door._

Harry turned to Hermione on the bed, "Er, now would be a great time to disapparate into your room, you know."

She seemed to snap out of her daze and nodded and stood out of bed.  She looked like she was about to disapparate when she panicked and grabbed his arm and said, "Oh Harry, I haven't learned yet!  What should I do?  Your cloak!! Where is it?"  

Dobby, with a point of his finger at Harry's trunk and a soft 'pop', the cloak appeared in Hermione's hand.  As Hermione whipped the invisibility cloak over her head and disappeared, Harry was back on his bed and under the covers in a trice.  

Dobby cracked over to stand on the bed and the door opened, "Harry!  It's nearly ten o'clock!  Oh—Dobby, why are you in here?"  Mrs. Weasley strode into the room but stopped when she saw the house elf on Harry 's bed.

"Dobby is waking up Harry Potter, Ms. Wheezy.  Ms. Wheezy is not strong enough to get in past Harry Potter's wards without Debby's help, ma'am.   Harry Potter has told Dobby how to wake him."  

Harry was staring at Dobby and planning to buy Dobby a dozen socks and new outfits the next chance he got.  Of all the times Dobby had tried to save Harry's life, for this one, he was most grateful.  He couldn't help a small smile as he said, "I'm awake now Dobby.  Thank you very much for helping."

Mrs. Weasley looked like she was trying to find something to say as she looked all around the room.  "Well come on now, dear.  Your breakfast will be cold if you don't hurry."  She motioned for him to get out of bed.

Dobby, however, snapped his fingers and a steaming tray of breakfast appeared on Harry's lap.  "No is not!  Dobby can feed Harry Potter whenever Harry Potter likes."

Mrs. Weasley rounded on Dobby and looked like she wanted to send him to his room.  "He shouldn't eat in bed!  _There'll be crumbs!!  And then his sheets will need to be changed and cleaned—"_

"No Mrs. Wheezy!  Dobby and Winky clean all the beds and rooms, every day.  We is changing and cleaning sheets, everyday!"  Dobby still stood on the bed, looking defiantly at Mrs. Weasley.  

Harry saw her face grow a radiant Weasley-red and her mouth worked.  But instead of saying anything, she turned on her heal and left the room, calling from the hall, "Well unless you want to be left at home, then you best hurry up!  We are leaving shortly—and you can wake Hermione up then, too!"

            Dobby waved the door shut again and Hermione whipped the cloak off her head, with a look of astonishment, "Dobby!  That was incredible!  Oh, we owe you so much…"

Harry was nodding his head as he set the breakfast tray over to the side and slipped out of bed.  "Yeah, Dobby, I owe you a whole new wardrobe for that."

Dobby looked at the floor and blushed at the praise, "I is only doing my job, Harry Potter, sir.  I is knowing she is coming and I is knowing yous is not to be found."  He looked up adoringly at Harry, "Dobby looks out for Harry Potter, sir."  

Harry crouched down to Dobby's level and braced his hands on the little elf's shoulders, "You are a life-saver Dobby.  Honestly, that was brilliant of you."

Hermione said, "Yes, it _was brilliant.  And now she thinks that she won't ever be able to burst into Harry's room because of his 'strong wards'—that was _brilliant_."  She laughed and said, "You'd better practice those wards, Harry, in case she asks for a demonstration and wants to try to break them down."_

Dobby shook his head, "Oh no, miss, Harry Potter _is stronger than Ms. Wheezy.  He _was_ warding the door shut.  Dobby just made sure she couldn't try to open the door and couldn't hear any noises before Harry Potter was ready."_

Before Harry or Hermione could ask Dobby what he meant, there was another knock on the door and Ron's voice called out, "Harry!  You ready to go to Diagon Alley today?  Hurry up—"

Harry opened the door and Ron looked at him, "Good, you're almost dressed."  Ron then craned his neck to look in the room.  Harry saw his eyes narrow, as he must have spied Hermione. "What are you two doing in here?  With the door closed…?"  He spied the breakfast tray on the bed and then looked at Hermione's attire of pyjamas and turned back to the shirt-less Harry with a searching look.

Harry decided denial was the best possible route and scowled, "What?"

Ron gestured at his topless state, "Er, you're half starkers, Harry!"

"Well, yes, one must be starkers before one is completely dressed." Harry was already annoyed that Mrs. Weasley seemed to want to put him on a regular bedtime/wakeup schedule.  Now, with Ron getting all accusatory, Harry's patience was wearing thin.  (That, and he really was rather sore from such a rudely interrupted dream.)

Ron was not to be deterred, "Well, what about _her! She's in her __pyjamas!  Was this a __private party?  _Breakfast in bed?  Am I interrupting?_"_

Harry knew Ron had crossed the line when he referred to Hermione as if she wasn't there.  Hermione stepped forward, between Ron and Harry and snarled at Ron, "_'She' is right here you know.  And it's none of your business __what I do!"  _

Ron began shaking his head and looking between Harry and Hermione as if it were all clear now. "I see how it is."  His eyes were narrowed and his face was red.  "Well, I guess I'm not wanted here." He turned around to leave, banging into the side of the door and cursing, as he stormed out.

Harry turned to look desperately at Hermione, "We can't tell him.  We can't!"

She was still glaring at the door where Ron had left, "_We_ shouldn't have to hide what we want to do just because _he_ is too immature to handle it!"

"No, Hermione—look, they are all supposed to be staying here for the next month.  I don't want to live in a war zone like that!  It's hard enough being around everyone who never shuts up and someone always has something to complain about... I can't take it right now!   I just need Ron to be my best friend—not a sore prat who's constantly at odds with my other best friend."  He was pleading with her, "Please, let's just wait to tell him.  It will have to be a secret--for now.   I'm sure this will all blow over.  That's how Ron is, he'll just get sick of fighting and forget about it."

Hermione breathed and considered him for a moment and said, "Fine.  You'd be go and talk to him then.  But, Harry, you really should put on a shirt."  She smiled as she gave him a pointed look at his chest.  

Harry locked the door again and stepped closer to her, grinning, "Half starkers, indeed.  Lucky he didn't recognize these as the same jeans I wore yesterday."  

She rolled her eyes at him and stepped in to give Harry a short kiss.  Harry mumbled, "Sorry, er, about this morning and all … I wasn't, er, completely awake and …"

Hermione looked him in the eye, "Don't be, it was divine."

Harry raised his eyes, "You were awake?"  

She faked a scandalous look, "Of course! What did you think you were doing?"

"Er, well, actually, I think I was rather, dreaming, or, _thought_ I was dreaming and I really didn't, er, completely wake up until I heard the knock on the door…" he trailed off.

"Oh."  Then her eyes widened and she said again, _"Oh."_  

_Great_, Harry thought, _she's probably read about it somewhere._

"Well," she eyed him impishly, "Then imagine how much more I'll enjoy it when you're actually awake."  She winked at him, leaned up to give him one more brief, chaste kiss and then left him alone. 

Harry called into the drawing room, "Ron?  Ginny?"  No one.  He went down to the Entry Hall and still saw no one.  He went further down to the kitchens and could hear voices.  

Harry pushed open the kitchen door and walked in and they all fell silent.  Lupin was sitting, looking weary at the table. Mrs. Weasley was over by the oven where Winky and Dobby were on either side of her, Winky tugging at her arm as she held a pan in her hand.  Ginny sat over by the fire, on the floor with Crookshanks in her lap and Ron was standing right before Harry, looking sullen.  

Harry had the distinct impression that they had been talking about him.  He nodded at Lupin, "Good morning, Remus."   He looked back to Ron and said, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"  

Mrs. Weasley slammed the pan onto the stovetop and walked to the door and huffed, "I'll be upstairs.  Be ready to leave in ten minutes—all of you."  Harry ignored her and was still looking at Ron who seemed to shrink in on himself.  

Ginny stood up and said, I can leave you two alone."

Harry waved dismissively at her and said, "I really don't care who hears this.  This isn't about anything.  That's the point.  I think Ron may have misunderstood whatever he thought he saw."  Harry looked back at Ron and said, "Ron, Hermione was in my room this morning because I wanted to talk to her about what in the world is going on between you two."  Harry held up his hand as Ron started to open his mouth, "Let me finish what I have to say.  I don't know exactly what all happened between you two but whatever it is, you'd better get over it.  You two bickered constantly before and that was hard enough to be around all the time.  Now, you're at her throat about any and everything and you can't even stand to acknowledge her or be in the same room.  You are supposed to be here for the next month with her?  And then at school, after that?  Ron—this can't go on."

Ron broke in, "Me?  Did she tell you that _she's_ the one who can't stand to be around _me_?  Did she—"

"Ron, from how I saw you treat her this morning, you are being insufferable!  No wonder she can't stand you!  _I can't stand it!  You guys can't expect me to be both your best friends and you not be able to stand each other.  And then, if you do, you can't go getting all hacked off because I happen to be talking to her and not you!"  _

Harry could see Ron just growing more and more angry and he shot a quick look at Ginny and Remus who were both trying not to watch as they listened, "Listen Ron, I'm not about to get in the middle of this.  You two need to just get over it and work it out.  I can't—I just…"  Harry ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.  _There has to be some way to get him to understand.  He rubbed his temples and said, "I just can't do this—I need my friends right now; the best friends who've __always been there.  _Please_, can you guys just work out whatever this is all about?"  He really hoped that this would propel Ron to just let it all go._

Ron looked like he was on the verge of a decision.  Harry thought he was about to say something but instead, Ginny walked over and stood between Ron and Harry, "I agree with Harry.  Ron, you've done nothing but rag about Hermione since the summer began and I'm tired of it, too.  We all have to live together and it's not fair to ask Harry to choose between the two of you."  Ginny turned to Harry, "Harry, I'm sorry about Ron—I should have stood up for Hermione weeks ago to him and not let it go on so long."  She shot a glare at Ron, as he was about to speak and said, "Oh get off it, you were wondering why you don't have a girlfriend—it's because you're always acting like an arse."  She rolled her eyes at Harry then to show her exasperation with Ron.

Harry saw that Ron now looked embarrassed and he gave him a slap on the shoulder, "All right?"

Ron gave his typical lop-sided grin and shrugged, "Yeah, mate, sure."  He gave Harry a slug on the arm, too and opened the kitchen door to let Harry go up, "You ready for Diagon Alley today?"  

Harry had been thinking since he heard Mrs. Weasley mention it, that he had just been there and after yesterday's whirlwind day, he could use the time now to just be alone and think. He also needed to catch up on some work before Kingsley arrived for training and then there was the Order Meeting tonight, too.  "Er, well, actually I already went yesterday."

Ginny, who was following them up the stairs, said, "Oh! But Harry, it's Lunasadh!  There are all kinds of games and street vendors today!"

Harry perked up a bit at that.  Ron added, "Yeah and they are revealing a new racing broom today!"  

"Really?"  Now that definitely got Harry's attention.  "What kind?"

"A whole new line—tons of secrecy—no one knows yet what it's even called.  The revealing it at Quality Quidditch at three today."    

They reached the Entry Hall and Mrs. Weasley was waiting for them impatiently.  The release of a new broom was really very tempting to Harry but then Ginny added, "Mum says we can stay through the afternoon and even go out to dinner with Fred and George."

Nope, Harry knew he had training this afternoon before the meeting.  "Sorry, I can't I have training this afternoon."  

Ron turned to look at Harry with a confused look and Harry saw Mrs. Weasley narrow her eyes at him.  "Harry, you can take a break for a day.  Come along now."  She turned towards the door then to leave.

But Harry didn't move.  "No really, I can't.  I have work to catch up on and I have a lot to do."  He saw Mrs. Weasley turn back and blink at being disobeyed.  But Harry felt obligated not to just skiv off a visit to train with someone who was talking time out of their day to help him.  "Let me know about the new broom, okay?"  

Ginny waved and went out the door and was followed by a stone-silent Mrs. Weasley.  Ron was still looking at Harry like he lost his puppy.  "Harry?  What are you training for?  What do you have to do?"

Harry just looked at him with a small smile and simply said, "Voldemort—you know the crazy dark lord who tries to kill me off once a year?"

Ron shivered at the sound of his name, grimaced and went out he door with a half-hearted wave.

Harry turned to find Lupin standing behind him, over by the stairs and looking tired.  "Well, I'd say Molly knows now." 

Harry looked confusedly at him and Lupin explained, "Albus said Molly might not take well to hearing about you spending your summer working all the time.  She said not to go on and tell her if it wasn't necessary.  I'd also say she was trying to make sure all you kids were out of the house for tonight's meeting."  

Harry recalled that Dumbledore had said not to tell anyone about him going to the meeting that night so he just nodded and was thankful he didn't go on to Diagon Alley today, where he might have had to explain to a stubborn Mrs. Weasley why he had to be home by seven.  

Lupin said, "Well, I have to get going for the day.  I'll see you later tonight, Harry" and walked out the front door.  

A/N:  Next:  The First Order Meeting


	14. Chapter 17 Order of Business

Also, some have asked about this in the previous chapter-- I did not make a mistake in writing "SPGW" rather than "SPEW".  I meant it to be "Society for the Protection of Giant Welfare" (A bit of a joke, lame perhaps.  Don't blame me, Harry's the one who thought it.)

Chapter 17.  Order of Business  

            Harry spent the morning and much of the early afternoon at the desk, in his room, working on new lists in his journal.  He now had a list of things he fears he may regret, as well as a start on a list of magic he'd like to learn. He also worked on different homework assignments and on reading through _Defensive Magic to Avoid Death_ to peruse the use and erection of Perimeter Charms.  

Around noon, Hermione had joined him in his room and camped out on the sofa by the fireplace.  She had intended to work on her Potions assignments, but rather, had not been able to resist reading the new edition of _Hogwarts: A History_, after Harry gave it to her.   She would occasionally quote things from the book and Harry would make various noises to pretend he cared and not actually be struggling to keep his mind from remembering how it felt to be waking/dreaming beside her that morning.

Harry had told her about his talk with Ron that morning and she said she would wait to see if he actually managed to change his attitude towards her.  Harry had asked her why she didn't go into Diagon Alley either today or the day before with him, and she said that yesterday, she had to help prepare for the surprise party and as for today, she said that she had overhead Mrs. Weasley talking with Mr. Weasley last night about keeping Ron, Ginny, Fred and George busy and away from the Order meeting that night.  Hermione confessed she had been secretly hoping that she might soon be able to join the Order officially, since she was nearly of age, and liked to hang around to meet Order members on meeting nights.

About an hour before Harry expected Kingsley for training, he asked Hermione if she would help him try out his new boots, "C'mon, you can throw jinxes, hexes and curses at me and we'll see if the dragon hide can repel any."  

Hermione was impressed with the protection and advantages the boots afforded Harry.  She even mused about wondering if they made dragonhide vests and cloaks and other attire.  

When Kingsley arrived, he had Hermione stay and help him work with Harry to practice fighting as part of a team.  Harry and Hermione were to work together to fight Kingsley and after a while, seemed to be doing much better than he had expected.  After the fifth time in a row that they had disarmed, knocked out and bound him, Kingsley shook his head and said, "Enough of that, you two know each other too well.  You work together like a seasoned pair of Aurors."  He dusted himself off and continued, "Which just goes to show, that there is strength in numbers if you can all work together."

Hermione considered him for a moment and then asked, "Kingsley, are Aurors trained in basic Healing and triage?"

"Well, yes, they are.  It's the last bit of Auror training and is really very basic compared to the complicated spellwork and diagnostic charms of a real Healer.  Why do you ask?"

Hermione looked like she was already working out a plan for something, "Well, I was just thinking that it's all well and good to be able to have someone along to help you and fight with you, but if one person gets injured, then the other person is not only fighting alone but also has to protect whoever is injured and get them to safety while defending themselves."  

Harry knew exactly what she was talking about.  It had made it very difficult at the Ministry to try to run from Death Eaters while his friends were being injured and couldn't help themselves, much less him.  

Hermione went on, "Remember Ginny's broken ankle and Neville's broken nose?  Madame Pomfrey fixed those in less than a few minutes, each.  Learning how to do simple healing like that would really help in case … well, you know, in case it's ever, a, well, _emergency_."

"A very fine idea, Ms. Granger."  Harry was startled to hear Professor Dumbledore speak from the entrance of the practice hall.  Dumbledore nodded to everyone in the hall and went on, "I must agree that Healing, an art not taught at Hogwarts for several years, may be well suited to return as a NEWT offering this next term."  

Dumbledore reached into his robes and pulled out a tin of candy, popped one into his mouth and offered the tin, "Peppermint, Ms. Granger?  Harry?  Kingsley? No?"  He pocketed the tin again and as he sucked on the candy, mused, "Perhaps I can ask Madame Pomfrey if she might have it in her schedule to teach the course.  Hmm.  Perhaps…

"Well, Kingsley, how would you say the lessons are going?"

Kingsley looked at Harry appraisingly and nodded as he said, "Harry's got excellent instincts and uncanny intuition.  Two things that are hard to teach."  He looked directly at Harry now as he spoke, "Fine reflexes, a wealth of power, a quick learner and resourcefulness, too.  Even with just the short few weeks we've been working together, I've noticed rapid improvements in form, techniques and just overall abilities.  You're very gifted, Harry.  With practice, you'll only improve."  

Harry blushed at the praise and could feel Hermione looking at him with pride.  "You… you're too kind, really.  I'm just often quite lucky."  He frowned, "Then again, I guess I've not been so lucky to get myself into the things I do."

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Very well, then.  You won't mind if I join you then for a while this afternoon?"

For the next two hours, Dumbledore filled the hall with conjured objects and had Harry and Hermione work together to maneuver the room as a sort of obstacle course as they would doge spells from Kingsley and Dumbledore would randomly animate objects to move about.  

Harry and Hermione were enjoying working together and dodging the spells.  Harry kept trying to take over control of the animated objects and send them after Kingsley but they always seemed to not want to listen to him.  

They called it quits and Dumbledore vanished all the conjured objects.  Kingsley looked at his watch and said, "Well, today sure flew by."  He shook his head then, "I know Harry's been studying all summer, but where did you learn all that, Hermione?"

Harry couldn't help himself and laughed, "Oh! She's been studying since she learned to read--she probably knows twice as many spells as I do."  He watched her face as she flitted from first thinking he was making fun of her to then looking flattered at the praise.  He thought, Hermione really would go spare if she knew that magic wasn't just limited to the spells you could read in a book.  Perhaps, he thought, he ought to tell her.

Dumbledore brought Harry out of his thoughts as he asked, "Harry?  Hermione?  Could I have a word with both of you for a moment?"   

Kingsley tipped his head as he left the hall and left the three of them alone.  

Dumbledore then conjured up three squishy armchairs and they all had a seat. He peered over his glasses first at Hermione and said, "Am I correct in assuming, Hermione, that you have been hoping to become an official member of the Order of the Phoenix?"

She glanced over at Harry who shook his head to convey that he had not told anyone her hope to join, "I am just assuming now, I know you have made a point to get to know many other members of the Order each Friday when they arrive and leave.  Also, your birthday in just a month and half means you are probably getting anxious and might wish to join before you have to go back to school.  Am I correct then?"

Hermione nodded sharply, "Yes, sir.  It's just I feel that I could better serve the Order's purpose if I were privy to information now, opposed to waiting until I am of age since I--"

Dumbledore held up a hand and said, "I agree.  I think you are indeed ready and capable to be a member and that it would serve us well if you were inducted before you return to Hogwarts."

Hermione looked stunned, momentarily, to not have been contested in her wish to join.

"However, as I have warned Harry, who is also attending tonight's meeting with the intent to join, there may be some resistance to inducting those who are young or underage."  Hermione looked over at Harry with narrowed eyes.  "I asked Harry not to tell anyone about our plan for him to join and I can see he kept his word and didn't even tell you."  Dumbledore gave an appreciative nod towards Harry.  

Hermione asked, "Do you mean Mrs. Weasley? I know she's upset that the twins are hoping to join tonight as well."  She looked at Harry, "That's probably why she wanted to get and keep us all out of the house today and this evening."  

Harry recalled what Ginny had said before leaving and said, "I don't know, Ginny said they were meeting the twins for dinner-- are you sure they are coming tonight?"

Dumbledore answered, "Yes, I am quite sure they mean to come tonight.  There are only a few times a year that inductions can be made.  The traditional wizarding holiday of Lunasadh is one of them.  I want you both to know that I am sponsoring both of you personally, tonight.  There may be some resistance at first, especially since most people believe that inductions must be agreed upon unanimously.  However, they are all not familiar with all the covenants of the Order.  Neither am I for that matter."  He smiled while his eyes twinkled and went on before Hermione could question him.  "If the Lead Light, myself of the Order wishes, I may call for an alternative induction if unanimous agreement by the present, current members cannot be achieved.  Now, as to what the alternative may be--we will not know until such time."

Harry had to ask, "Who decides?  Don't you already know?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes were twinkling again he smiled and answered, "I am merely the Lead Light of the Order.  The head is something else entirely."  He kept smiling as if this explained a thing. 

Hermione nearly sputtered, "You mean there's another Head of the Order?"

Dumbledore drew out his tin of candy again and popped another mint into his mouth.    Harry and Hermione both declined a candy and were waiting impatiently for him to answer.  He leaned back in his chair then and said, "The head of the Order lies within an object.  It has been imbued with the brains, wisdom, magic and knowledge of the founder of the Order."

"But I thought you were the founder?"  Hermione contested.

Dumbledore smiled and shook his head, "No, I am not.  Many and most of the current members may believe this as few of them have ever seen an alternative induction and fewer still, knew another leader ever to have existed."

"Who—then who was the founder?" Harry asked as Hermione nodded along.

Dumbledore studied them for a moment and closed his eyes for a moment, "The full story, I suspect I will be telling everyone tonight, if indeed, an alternative induction is required.  I will defer the details of the Order's origin until then." 

Dumbledore then held up his hand and pulled out a pocket watch.  He flipped it open and said, "Both of you should come with me to the kitchen now, members are due to arrive shortly."

Harry and Hermione took the pair of wing chairs in the corner by the fireplace once they reached the kitchen.  There they saw Remus, Kingsley, Moody and Tonks, already gathered at the table.  Harry saw Remus's and Kingsley's faces as they entered, and figured, if they hadn't been ushered in the door by Dumbledore himself, they would have been asked to leave.  

Hermione leaned over to Harry once they sat down and asked, "How long have you known you'd be joining now?"

Harry watched Professor McGonagall arrive and be seated and he looked at Hermione and then away before whispering evasively, "A few weeks now." Harry was now consumed with thoughts of what Dumbledore had said about possibly having to share the prophecy details with some people to gain support for his induction.  _Remus—he had to know_.  Harry had almost wanted to share it with him several times already.  _Moody, yes, he would definitely be one to not to wig out over it.  Who else?_  

Harry looked at Hermione, she was watching other members filter in who would glance curiously over at the pair by the fire, be seated at the long table and then begin to whisper.  _I should tell her.  There's no way I can keep it form her and I don't think I would if I could.  _

Harry felt an overwhelming need to have Hermione know; to have her know what he could always sense resting upon his shoulders and to tell him that there a way and that she would help him find it.  For a brief moment, emotion swelled within him and he had to turn away from her and keep it in check.  He wasn't sure if it had been the urge to cry or scream but whatever it was, he needed to lock it up now.

Harry saw Sturgis Podmore, Emmeline Vance, Bill and Mr. Weasley all enter the kitchen then.  Mr. Weasley did a double take as he saw the pair in the corner and then headed over towards them.

"Harry, Hermione!"  He looked about the kitchen, Harry presumed scanning for Mrs. Weasley, and then back again.  "Have you seen Molly at all?"

Harry quickly assured him, "She's still out with Ron and Ginny."

Mr. Weasley looked significantly relieved at this.  He looked around and then grabbed a spare chair and pulled it up beside Harry.  "Listen, I know the twins are hoping to join the Order tonight.  They told me and Molly overheard last night that they were invited to pledge for membership tonight."  He looked about the room again, "I'm just going to assume you are both here for the same reasons.  Now, I know Dumbledore probably thinks you're both ready and all, and in truth, you likely are.  We all heard how you kids took on twice your number in Death Eaters and held your own for a while, but really, you'd be doing your part by just going to school and letting us handle everything.  If you two join now, then, next it'll be Ron wanting--"

Dumbledore cleared his throat and Mr. Weasley was silenced as Dumbledore began to talk, "I think we need to begin.  Let's start with old business first.  The Ministry?  What news have we?"

Several people had hazarded glances over at Harry and Hermione, clearly disappointed not to hear why they were there yet as Kingsley spoke up first, "My top priority assignment remains searching for Sirius.  I believe Amelia suspects I am doing something else with my time, however, and not dedicated fully to the search."

"Why is that?" Dumbledore questioned.

"She informed me this morning that the Minister has made appropriations for increased funding for the search, meaning increased personnel on the search.  She seemed very interested in watching my reaction to this.  Albus, I've been thinking, she would probably be quite supportive of what I am doing if she knew; she may even wish to pledge, as well."  He glanced for a moment at Harry and Hermione, "If we're ready to begin spreading our numbers, I can think of a few others in my department who may be willing."

Dumbledore just nodded and looked over to the next person, "Emmeline?  What news have you?"

"I've been assigned to the committee to coordinate the Hogwarts Express.  We've had extra allocations this year and nearly twice the number assigned to oversee this."  She looked uncomfortable for a moment and watched the tabletop as she said, "The Minister, er, has suggested we examine alternative methods of transportation for, high risk students."

Harry was quite certain he would fall into this classification and then heard Dumbledore ask, "Did he mention, Emmeline, who he felt was high risk?"

The stately-looking witch was now clearly agitated and fidgeting with a groove in the wooden table as she muttered, "The majority of muggleborns and, er, Harry Potter."  

Harry could sense Hermione just itching to say something and obviously, Dumbledore did as well for he asked, "Hermione, do have something to say?"

Harry watched her eyes flare as she said, "Well, as for Harry and myself, it would be _ridiculous to remove us from the train.  The Express rarely has any teachers or adults aboard and, well, Harry especially, as two of the older students, we're well suited to _help_ if something were to happen to the Express.   Besides, it would only help deter the Express from being a target if people knew that these _targets_ were not aboard.  However, separating off the muggleborns only makes _them_ an even more concise target.  _

"As for Harry," she looked over at him, "you could just _say_ he's not going to be aboard.  I'd say he could go the ride under an invisibility cloak but I think many students would wonder why he wasn't to be seen."  As she finished she seemed to realize that she'd gone off a bit and Harry marveled at how she always spoke her mind.

  McGonagall spoke up then, "Ms. Granger is correct, in that we generally do not send staff to chaperone the train.  It is generally the responsibility of the Head Boy and Girl to oversee it.  We would likely be able to send a few people to make the trip with the students."

"Argh! You've nothing to worry about," Moody growled, "as long as the spawn of Death Eaters is still riding the train, then the train is safe."

Emmeline Vance looked slightly unnerved by the reactions from Hermione and Moody and hedged, "Well, I think the Minister wants to make a show of _doing something for the children's safety.  He said he would rather make an effort for nothing than do nothing at all and be blamed for not being proactive."_

Several other people voiced opinions after this and Harry saw Hermione sitting back and her mind working feverishly.  He had an idea and leaned over to Hermione, "If Fudge cares so much about seeming to make an effort, but we don't want to single anyone out, then why not make it optional.  Like portkeys you can sign up to take?  Then, well, then we can see by who signs up, if there's a pattern—like Malfoy and company all opt out of the train ride, then there's probably a reason."  

Hermione looked at him and nodded, "Yes, Harry that's an excellent idea."

"I agree," Mr. Weasley had heard and now seemed excited at the idea and called out over the chatter, "Albus!  Harry here has a splendid idea!"  

The noise quieted down and the next sound that Harry heard, made his head ache instantly, "Arthur! What in the world is going on here?"

Harry saw Mr. Weasley freeze at the shrill sound of his wife's voice and dared to peer around him to see her standing with the kitchen door held open, with her hands on her hips, and a disgusted look on her face.

She barely had time to seethe before Fred and George, pushed in through the door behind her, "Mum—you're blocking the way."

She rounded and held out her arms wide and nearly screamed, "YOU ARE NOT JOINING THE ORDER!"

"Sorry we're late Professor, but Mum jinxed us and we couldn't apparate here."  Harry heard one muffled twin call out as Mrs. Weasley tried to push them out the door.

"Molly!"  Dumbledore strode over to the door and Mrs. Weasley stopped and turned to face him.  

Mr. Weasley was up and got between Dumbledore and his wife and he put his hands on her shoulders.  Fred and George slipped around her and scuttled off over by the pantry.

  Mrs. Weasley then breathed out in a deathly whisper, _"What gives **you the right—to tell **my** boys they can come here tonight?"**_ Harry saw her glaring at Dumbledore and felt very glad he had never been on the receiving end of that look.

Dumbledore remained calm and Harry knew this was what he had been expecting to happen.  "Molly, _please, have a seat and I will explain everything."_

Mr. Weasley ushered her to a seat at the table facing away from Harry and Dumbledore said, "Perhaps some tea, Winky?"  The elf cracked over and a pot of tea and several cups appeared on the table before she cracked away.  

Dumbledore watched Mrs. Weasley breath deeply for a few seconds and then he stepped back to stand beside Harry's chair.  "Well, it seems it may be appropriate to switch on to some new business."  He peered around the room as nearly everyone turned their chairs to get a better look and inched forward to hear what the great wizard had to say.

"It is my hope tonight, to sponsor a small, select group of young people to seek induction into the Order of the Phoenix."  Mrs. Weasley puffed herself up in order to gather steam to begin a new rant but was hushed by Mr. Weasley muttering to her to be silent and let Dumbledore speak.

Dumbledore smiled gratefully at him and went on, "Most of you have all met, at some time, each of the four people I have here tonight."  He turned to the corner and said, "Hermione Granger and Harry Potter," then gestured to the back of the room where the twins stood, sending a wave at Harry, "and Misters Fred and George Weasley."  Dumbledore motioned for Fred and George to come over by the fireplace.  

 "Several of you have asked if we would be inviting new members to pledge tonight and I asked each of you to hold off until later on expanding our numbers.  I have not felt an urgency to expand out numbers and feel that at the moment, while Lord Voldemort's" several people shivered at the name, "numbers are so low, we have an advantage.  These four, however, all have unique qualities to offer with their service to the Order and I am personally sponsoring each of them."  A huff could be heard from Mrs. Weasley and several members looked uneasy at this. 

"Fred and George here, were privy to a large amount of the Order's _private dealings last summer by incorporating the use of several of their very own inventions, which, with their membership, they would be willing to provide to the Order.  They also have approached me with several other services and products they wish to offer."  Fred and George each took deep bows and Harry saw Mrs. Weasley looking at them smugly._

Dumbledore then turned to Harry and Hermione.  "Hermione, has been a model student in her years at Hogwarts and has continually exceeded the dedication and achievement expected of her level.  She is, undoubtedly, one of the finest witches to study at Hogwarts for a fair number of years.  She is, of muggle parentage and for the summer, has been residing here at Headquarters.  She turns of age this September and wishes to become a member before heading back to school."  Harry saw Hermione flush with the glowing introduction and felt himself smiling, too.  She snuck a look at him and he gave her a wink.

"Harry, you all know," he sank back as he hadn't seen his own introduction coming and felt himself flush as Dumbledore went on, "has been one of Lord Voldemort's top targets for, approximately, his entire life."  Harry clasped his hands in front of him and studied his fingernails. "Harry has been undergoing intensive training with several of you for the past few weeks and will continue this training over this next month.  He has, as you all well know, continually been found himself on the frontline of several major events leading up where we are today.  Today, as we have been since the public and Ministry have accepted the return of Voldemort, we remain upon the brink of war. We have had success in crippling Lord Voldemort's supporters and their abilities to aid their lord.  However few followers he has, he will not remain quiet for long.  We only wait for his first strike."  _Oh please, let him stop there_.   He felt it was really quite embarrassing to hear such descriptions of ones self and then to hear how they were only waiting for Voldemort to strike.  _I need to train. Hard.  I can't let this go on for long.  I need to end this war before someone else I know gets hurt.  _ "Harry, I should also tell you, is well aware of what you all know about the prophecy."

His stomach dropped and he suddenly felt the scrutiny of every eye in the room upon him.  He felt Hermione staring at him and knew he'd be lucky to end the night without her forcing him to tell her everything.  

This last statement had set off a few murmurs and several people stirred but it was then that Mrs. Weasley couldn't hold back any longer.  

She stood up and the her chair went crashing backwards and she shrieked, "_How could you **do that?  He's a ****child!  We agreed he was **too young to know**!  Albus—this is an ****outrage!!  **Someone** has to stop this and** I** don't intend to allow—"**_

Dumbledore raised his hand and her mouth snapped shut.  Harry suspected it was not entirely of her own volition.  Harry felt his head aching even more now and also imagined he could hear the voices in his head trying to soothe him.  He sighed and crossed his arms as he leaned back into the chair.  

"This is my case for sponsoring these memberships.  You all know the procedure.  I will ask for anyone with substantiated objections,' he looked squarely at Molly, "you may _calmly_ present your reasoning before it is put to vote.  Molly, I believe we all know you have something to say."  Dumbledore waved his had towards her and her mouth snapped open now.  He also waved over more chairs and he, Fred and George all sat down.

Mrs. Weasley stood and, still taking deep breaths, walked over to face the table and those now by the fire.  Harry thought she looked much less dangerous now that she had been given the floor and free reign to speak.  

She crossed her arms over her chest and with a look at Harry, Hermione and her boys, she began, "This, _war_, of which we are upon the brink, is not a game.  It is not for children."  She looked squarely at each of the pledges as she spoke.  "You may think you all know what it means to be in the Order.  You may think you know how to take care of yourselves and believe you would enjoy being a member and fighting what you think is evil."  

She stood before Fred and George and had to close her eyes for a moment and calm herself before saying, "Your father and I have agreed to take up this fight because of how much we love you, our children and family.  We mean to protect you from having to deal with this, until such a time, as you have no choice.  Fred, George, you two have _never_ taken a thing seriously before in your lives and I can't imagine you don't think it would _great fun_ to try out your pranks on others in the name of war, but, _you don't understand the sacrifices you may have to make."  Harry could see Fred and George looking ready to argue with her but Dumbledore laid a hand on Fred's arm to keep their silence. _

Mrs. Weasley then looked over at Dumbledore, "Albus, I don't know what you think you are doing, _but using children in this war is just not acceptable_.  You may _think they are ready because it is what they _say_ they want, but you need to remember that children often want things that they are __just not ready for.  They need to be told 'no', sometimes for their own good."  _

Dumbledore merely nodded his head once and Mrs. Weasley moved over to stand before Harry.  "Harry, dear," her face softened and when Harry ventured a look at her face, before turning back to stare at his lap, he saw her face filled with sadness and a fierce protectiveness.  Her hand reached out to the side of his face for a moment and then she said, "Hermione, dear, I at least can understand why it is, you want to join that you feel you need to take action so that you may remain in the wizarding world.  You are such a bright young girl, I am quite sure your mind would only be an asset here.   But, dear, there simply isn't anything you can do for us while you are in school.  You're best helping us by minding your studies so that when you are of age and out of school, then you will be even more of an asset."  

She turned back to Harry then and was worrying her lip and shaking her head.  "Harry, look at me dear," Harry raised his head up and met her eyes.  He could see and feel the protectiveness she felt for him.  He met her look with calm determination as she spoke in barely over a whisper, "Dear, this isn't fair for you." _Nothing's fair for me.  "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."  __Does that include die?  "You shouldn't have to do this."  __You have no idea how much I **do** have to do this.  "You're far too young to be jumping into the middle of all this and you've already have enough of your life affected by You-Know-Who.  You just concentrate on school and let the adults handle this now; you seen far too much already."  _

"Have I?"  He said it before he could stop himself.

"Harry…"Dumbledore spoke softly.

Harry went on, "Have I seen far too much already?"  His voice wavered as Mrs. Weasley drew herself back up now and was ready to argue her point but he went on darkly, "I think I've hardly seen anything yet."  He grew to feel defiant as he still met her in the eye.

"You don't know what you're talking about!"  Her voice was rising now.

"Molly, if that is all you have to say, then…" Dumbledore stood up between Harry and Mrs. Weasley and Harry dropped his head into a hand and rubbed his forehead in an attempt to calm himself.    _She doesn't know everything.  This is why Dumbledore felt it might be necessary to share the full prophecy with others._

"Harry," Hermione's whisper brought him back to the room, "I think we're supposed to let them have their say and then we can speak for ourselves after they've all had their say."  

Harry knew she was probably right and that he shouldn't have said anything, but it was so frustrating to just sit there and be patronized as if he didn't know what he had to do.  As if he didn't know that the more time he wasted, not training and not getting ready to be one capable of vanquishing Voldemort, then the more time Voldemort had to destroy lives; especially the lives of those close to Harry.  

Harry knew it was only a matter of time and planning before Voldemort had his next plan to make his life hell.  _Plotting, it's what dark lords do.  Harry looked around and thought of his friends:  Ron, Hermione, the twins, Ginny, Neville and just about anyone who had been in the DA with him and supported him last year; they were all in danger if they were known to be his friend or even to just support him.  He could see the lines of war had already begun to be drawn at Hogwarts._

Mrs. Weasley was seated again now and Dumbledore asked, "Is there anyone else who like to voice an objection to the induction of these pledges?"  

Harry saw Mrs. Weasley elbow Mr. Weasley and give him a warning look so that he cleared his throat and tentatively stood up, while looking between his wife and Dumbledore, "Arthur?  Please come and have your say."

"Er, well, I guess, it's just that Molly and I both feel, that we, as adults, are not doing our job if we have to rely on young people to fight this war."  He turned to look at them, "We are all so proud really of each of you and everything you've done for yourselves.  It would just make all of us, I think, much happier to know you were still enjoying being children and not trying to, er, take on the burdens of adulthood."  He looked nervous as she finished and glanced back at his wife he was staring intently a corner of the ceiling.  "That's all."  Mr. Weasley hurried to sit back down.  

Dumbledore rose again, "Is there anyone else?"  He peered over his half-moon glasses and at each member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry heard a cough and a scrape of a chair and looked up to see Lupin stand and raise his hands up as he looked at Harry, "I'm not necessarily against this.  But, I think I just need to say one thing."  Lupin always looked so tired and worn and Harry felt that the death of Sirius was still taking its toll on him, as it sometimes did to Harry.  Lupin's mouth curled up on one side as he said, "I recall sitting at this very table with all four of you just about a year ago and you all wanted to know why you couldn't join the order then.  We gave several reasons, some of which, obviously, no longer apply.  The one that still does, is the one I'll remind you about now: to become a member of the Order of the Phoenix, you are staking your life on your beliefs.  You must believe in the mission of the Order enough to be willing to give your life.  It's not that I don't think any one of you wouldn't do that, actually, I am quite sure, you each would.  But, I think some of use may wonder if you are too young to know the true value of what you may have to give up.  That is all I have to say."  He gave each of them a look and then sat down.

"Anyone else?"  Dumbledore asked.  "All right then," He turned to George, "You've heard the objections, now you may each have a turn say a word in counterpoint.  Mr. Weasley?"

George rose up, as did Fred, they looked at each other and nodded once before plunging in, "Right, we'll just speak together--"

"--since we always do anyway."

"Look Mum, Dad, we know what you've been saying--"

"--Mum, you actually make this easier as you finally gave a list of your reasons rather than screeching and shrieking--"

"Yeah, actually, that's right.  'Cuz we know this isn't just a game."

"Or just a fine opportunity to blow things up."

"Although that is a bonus."

"Definitely."

"As for taking care of ourselves--"

"We know we can do that, we've been taking care of each other for years now."  

"I know you and Dad want to protect us and think we're _'children'--"_

"--but we're not.  We're eighteen now."

"And if half of our family has already taken a side in this war--"

"--then our entire family is already marked as that side."

"We might as well take our stand."

"There is no choice to make."

"We're quite serious about that."

"Quite."  

"If you hadn't already been in the Order, we'd still want to do this."

"But you are and anyone who knows our family, can guess our loyalties."

"Right, so we just want to make it official."

"So we can help defend ourselves and _not_ rely on you to do it."

"Plus, we have talked with Professor Dumbledore and he agrees that can make a difference."

"Have something to offer."

"Yeah, that all our goofing off and inventions are just a waste of time but can actually be a cover for a more covert operation."

"We've been working on it for a few months now."

"We've had the ideas and all for a while."

"We'll do what we want anyway, really."

"This is just a technicality, per se."

"For I ask you, what is mischief?"

"But a soldier without a purpose."

"So, we say--"

They chorused together, "--give us a purpose!"

Harry hadn't really been listening to the twins.  He had been replaying over and over Mrs. Weasley's arguments and countering her points in his head.  He had to keep reminding himself that he should only use the facts that the Order currently knew in his arguments, if he wished for a successful standard induction.

"Thank you very much boys."  Dumbledore stood then and smiled at them as they sat back down.  

He turned to Harry and then Hermione and Hermione made to get up first as she said, "I'll go first."  

But Harry put a hand on her elbow and drew her back and looked at her and said, "May I?  Go first?"  

She nodded and Harry stood and looked at Professor Dumbledore who gave Harry a warm smile and nodded and said, "After our pledges have all had their say, then we will be proceeding with the voting for our standard induction.  Harry?"  

Harry walked over, closer to the kitchen door, where the twins had stood and spoke.  His counterpoints were running through his head over and over in an increasingly more frenetic pace.  Until, that is, he looked up and saw every single person at the kitchen table staring avidly at him, his face, his scar, and even his clothes.  His mind faltered for a moment seeing everyone looking at him and watching him.  He saw Tonks mouth, "Nice boots!" and then saw Lupin's grim face and remembered why he was up there. 

He looked down for a moment to calm his thoughts from being a rushed, garbled mess of sentences and then looked up and at Mrs. Weasley.  He figured she was the one to be convinced and meant to address all her arguments.

"Mrs. Weasley, you said it wasn't fair to me to be here.  I'd say it is my choice to be here but as Fred and George said, I also feel there really isn't a choice to be made.  

"I think, that perhaps you believe it was Professor Dumbledore's decision to get us to join tonight.  You just told him that using children in this war is just not acceptable.  I don't think that's his choice to make."  Harry was thinking of how so many of his fellow classmates, also 'children', had had no problems taking sides in the debate of Voldemort's return.  

"I think that Hogwarts was ahead of the rest of the wizarding world in choosing sides for this war.  While the Order had to work in secret last year, students were declaring their allegiances openly."  He was thinking of Malfoy and company's tendency to wax poetic about the virtues of the Dark Lord.  

Then he thought of the DA.  "In fact, we," he gestured at Hermione and the twins, "even drew together a group of student who believed in Voldemort's return last fall."  He saw several wince at the use of the name.   "If you think Voldemort would think twice about using students to do his work, then I think you're wrong.  I can think of several classmates who would be willing and proud to be his minions of Hogwarts." He was getting slightly irritated with all the people wincing and shuddering whenever he said Voldemort's name.  _That's rich; they can't stand to hear the name and want to tell me, I'm not ready to be here.    _

"Voldemort has used and planted professors there and I'm sure you recall he had no compunctions about trying to use and kill an eleven-year-old girl to try to get to me."  He knew it was a bit of a low blow to Mrs. Weasley to remind her of Ginny, but as Harry thought about it, it was more and more ridiculous to think that Hogwarts wouldn't be a likely front of the war.

Harry was only talking to Mrs. Weasley and forgot there was a whole table of people listening.  "Mrs. Weasley, I know you think that joining the Order is like joining the war.  But I think you're wrong.  As long as Voldemort wants me dead, I think the war will come to me, whether I'm in the Order or not.

    "You say I've seen far too much in my life already," he looked over at Mr. Weasley, "and that I should enjoy being a child still.  You say I shouldn't have to do this."  He swallowed and found the words just coming to him.  "I don't think we've seen the worst of him yet and as long as he's around and wanting me dead, then I don't see myself exactly _enjoying being a child_."

He remembered Lupin's comment and looked up at him and said, "Remus, you asked us if we could know the value of what we may lose."  _Our lives.  My life.  'Neither can live while the other survives'.  I don't have much of a life to lose._  He closed his eyes at the thoughts in his head for a moment and then said, "I'd say I don't," he paused, "have much to lose, that is."  He felt freer just saying that.  Like admitting it out loud made it easier to accept.

Just as he said that, he saw Kingsley, Tonks, and Mr. Weasley all jump in their seats and he saw Tonks pull back her sleeve to look at her watch.

In a flash, the kitchen door flew open and in swept a blur of billowing black robes and an owl that flew directly to Dumbledore.  Harry, who had drawn his wand at the sudden entrance, was now locking eyes with a snarling and seething Snape.

"Severus!"  Dumbledore was up and glancing quickly up and down the parchment in his hand.  

"I've been summoned!"  Tonks called out.  

Kingsley added, "As have I."

"I don't believe it," Mr. Weasley was staring at his watch, "but I seem to be getting called in, as well."

Dumbledore looked back at Snape, "Is everything all right, Severus?"

Snape was still glowering at Harry as they both stood facing each other with their wands out.  "I imagine," he snarled, "you're all being called in response to the Dark Mark that was just released over Northampton."   

Harry heard Hermione and several others gasp.  Then Snape got a malicious gleam in his eyes as his lips curled back and he bared his teeth and he spat out, "Thanks to _Potter's_ inability to control his mind and his _body_—Ms. Granger no longer has a home."

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Author's note: I have a Yahoo group, HP_AoF, (the website on my bio profile) where I also post my chapters.  (For those times when FF.net just decides to shut down and leave us all in fanfic-withdrawal.)  I also will upload any relevant files to this site. 


	15. Chapter 18 Beloved One

A/N:  There is a short, short song (not a song fic) towards the latter half of this chapter.  It is the muse born of a song on a CD I recently bought that has several songs which served as the initial inspiration for writing this story.  I believe I can upload the song as a QuickTime file from my iMac (stupid thing), at home to my Yahoo group.  (See the link on my bio/profile page to the group.) It's a short and beautiful tune, that, upon first hearing it, I thought only of Harry.  

Also, I spent nearly two days researching Scottish/British history and creating a fictional history for this story, which, for you the reader, will not be known in full, until the end.  I can only hope you'll appreciate all the effort …..

Harry heard Hermione and several others gasp.  Then Snape got a malicious gleam in his eyes as his lips curled back and he bared his teeth and he spat out, "Thanks to _Potter's_ inability to control his mind and his _body_—Ms. Granger no longer has a home."

Chapter 18. Beloved One 

"Severus!"  Dumbledore had a hand on the snarling man's shoulder and urged him to lower his wand.  "Hermione?"  He motioned for her to come near.  

She had flown up out of her chair when Snape had stormed into the kitchen and she was now standing numbly, beside the fireplace, with her mouth open and her face pale.  She walked over and Harry looked at her and as he met her eyes, he saw them begin to moisten with tears.  He dropped his arm holding his wand that he still had pointing at Snape as she walked up to him, her eyes begging to know why.  She dew in a shaky breath, dropped her forehead onto his shoulder and a hand on his chest as he pulled her close with one arm and then turned to look at Dumbledore.  

Dumbledore was watching them both and gave Harry a penetrating look for only a brief moment before he turned back to question Snape.  "Severus, can you tell us what happened?"

Snape, who couldn't look more disgusted as he watched Hermione being comforted by Harry than if Crabbe and Goyle were snogging on a desk in the potions classroom, sneered and snarled before answering, "_The residence is destroyed_."  He straightened up and turned to fully face Dumbledore and not Harry and went on, "The Aurors are being called, I'm sure, to assess the area and look for any leads.  There will be several muggles requiring memory charms."

Dumbledore turned to Tonks and Kingsley, who nodded that they had been listening and understood.  "You should be one your way then."  With two, quick, successive 'pop's, both disapparated.  

Mr. Weasley then stepped forward, "Albus, do you know why I would be getting a call, too?"

Dumbledore glanced at Snape, who offered nothing as an answer, and then back to Mr. Weasley, "Perhaps, Arthur, your family is known to be friends with the Grangers?  Or, perhaps, Fudges suspicions that you have been working with me the past year, are leading him to seek your counsel."  Dumbledore was obviously hopeful.  "You should hasten to the call, Arthur.  Remember, you know nothing of the Grangers' whereabouts, other than that they are out of town for the summer."  Mr. Weasley nodded and went over to his wife before disapparating.

Harry was watching Snape brush dust off his robes, which he noticed now, were very heavy, long, black robes that were the same as those worn by the Death Eaters who appeared after Voldemort's rebirth.  

 Dumbledore looked at the remaining members of the Order; they were milling about now and discussing the recent event animatedly.  He drew his wand and conjured a bubble that grew to envelope Harry, Hermione, Snape and himself.  He then asked, "Severus, what does this have to do with Harry and why was it done now?"

This is what Harry was dreading to hear.  He had an inkling as to what it was and it was the last thing in the world he wanted Hermione to know: that when she looked into his eyes, Voldemort might be looking back.  _He said I couldn't control my mind.  Voldemort must have seen her.  But how?  Shouldn't I have felt that?  I should be able to stop that—I **need to be able to stop that!**_

Harry was brought of his panicking by Snape's drawling voice, "Potter, it seems allowed the Dark Lord to glimpse a face long enough for the description to be recognizable by not only myself, by the pathetic _Wormtail_, as well."  Snape's eyes were glinting with malice as he watched Harry but spoke to Dumbledore, "The Dark Lord was quite certain that Potter had found himself a _girlfriend_."  Snape's eyes flitted over to Hermione.  "Whatever it was that he saw, it had him _gasping_ in agony and he nearly _wretched after watching it."  Snape sneered at Hermione, still clinging to Harry, _"I can just imagine why."__

Harry felt a million miles away, his arm around Hermione grew lack and dropped to his side and he felt himself sway slightly as she straightened up and watched him.  He wouldn't look at her.  He couldn't face her now.  

"When was this?"  Dumbledore's voice drew Harry back into the conversation.

Snape answered, "Around midnight last night, this morning.  He mentioned he thought he might have had a glimpse of something the night before.  Around the same time."  He took on a smug, condescending look at Harry and smiled while baring his teeth as he said, "We assumed that Potter had found someone to help him _celebrate_ his birthday and while he attended to his _body's lust_, he neglected to attend to his mind."

He almost looked gleeful and Harry wanted nothing more than to curse Snape into a dozen pieces and then feed them to a Blast-Ended Skrewt.  He wanted to hex that sneering smile off his smug face and hurt him until he begged for mercy.

"Excuse me, but that just doesn't make sense."  Hermione was looking skeptically at Snape, Dumbledore, and then to Harry.  "Last night there was no _lust, as you call it and if that were it, then certainly—"_

"Stop!"  Harry couldn't hear this now.  He squeezed her with the arm around her waits and speared her with a brief look.  This wasn't some clinical issue to be discussed with your headmaster and potions master in a kitchen!  

" Is there anything else, Severus, you can tell us?"  Dumbledore asked.

"Obviously, as you can guess, the potion failed to work.  I was made to stay and remake a second batch under close supervision.  The creatures have surely become a snack for the Lord's pet, by now.  He was quite disappointed."  He raised an eyebrow at this and then said, "I was instructed to give the news during the meeting and then to go on to Hogwarts, where the Dark Lord assumes Potter has been staying.  I was instructed to deliver the news to him, personally," Snape sneered as he finished, "so I might report back the look on his face."

The sneer as he finished was what set Harry off.  He stepped into Snape's personal space and spat, "If your _lord, _Voldemort_," he watched Snape flinch at the name with satisfaction, "wants to see my reaction, then he should have come himself.  __That's, what you can tell him."   _Hell, why not taunt him, what's he going to do—come after me and kill me?  Like that'd be a change.__

Dumbledore urged Harry back away from Snape and asked, "Do you know why he thought Harry was at Hogwarts?"  Snape shrugged indifferently and raised an eyebrow to say he hadn't a clue.  

"Thank you, Severus." Dumbledore watched as Snape exited the bubble and then turned back to Harry and Hermione.  Harry saw him twinkling and then smile lightly, "This is going better than we could have hoped."  

He saw both Harry and Hermione drop their jaws in confusion at this and explained, "Hermione, this is precisely why we removed your family from the house.  All that was destroyed was a building.  Your family remains safe.  There will always be another house to make a home.  

"Harry, I do not believe that Voldemort broke into your mind.  We will discuss this later.  For now, I wish to have the inductions completed before midnight."

Hermione's speech was brief as she only stood for a moment to say, "I think it would be ludicrous, at this point, to not admit I've not already been dragged into this war."

Dumbledore quickly put forth the votes for induction.  Hermione was the only one to be inducted unanimously, as Mrs. Weasley still staunchly stood her ground and voted against allowing Harry, Fred and George in.  She looked quite smug as she rose to cast her opposing vote for each.  

Harry had noticed that Dumbledore looked equally as satisfied as the last three inductions were denied.  He stood before the members of the Order, with his hands clasped before him, and spoke, "For this next order of business, it may take a while.  I believe, some sustenance," Winky and Dobby appeared and a feast soon appeared upon the table, " may be needed to sustain us."  

Mrs. Weasley nodded and rose saying, "Very well then.  Now," she gestured to Harry and the twins, "off to bed with the lot of you."

Fred guffawed, "Mum—we don't live here anymore!"

"Molly—," Dumbledore leveled her a look, "please have a seat."  He waited patiently as she held him in a staring contest for a few moments and then huffed and sat down, refusing to fill her plate as the other members had already done.

"Now, I have many things to cover tonight.  The first and foremost of which is completing these inductions."  Many people put down their forks to listen at this.  

"Very few of you here tonight have ever witnessed an alternative induction. Alastor, Elphias, you are, I believe are the only ones to witnesses one, other than myself."  Harry saw Elphias Doge, the wheezing wizard with silver hair who been part of his advance guard from Privet Drive to Grimmauld Place last summer, look like he felt quite happy to know something the others did not.  

"It is customary," Dumbledore went on, "for the Lead Light of the Order, that is myself, to call for an alternative induction if I so wish, in the event of the inability to reach a unanimous decision for standard inductions."  

Harry saw Mrs. Weasley looking quite agitated now and she seemed to be searching the faces of the other members for some support. 

"Before you begin to think I am just making this all up to play my own game, it is first necessary to understand the history of the Order of the Phoenix."  

With a sudden burst of flame and light, Fawkes appeared in the room.  He flew over to Dumbledore's shoulder and dropped a tattered bundle into his hands.  

Harry watched Dumbledore open up the black bundle and saw it was the Sorting Hat.  Harry's mind flashed back to the memory of Fawkes bringing him the Sorting Hat in the Chamber of Secrets.  Harry couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach and mutter, "If this has something to do with slaying a basilisk again…." Harry saw Dumbledore and Fawkes turn to look at him.  He hadn't realized he had muttered that aloud and crossed his arms as he sank sheepishly into the chair.  

Fawkes flew over to perch on the arm of Harry's chair as if to assure him there would be no basilisks to slay tonight.  He heard Dumbledore speak, "It seems, that perhaps I will not be the one to give the history lesson tonight."  He conjured a stool and set the hat upon it.  

Dumbledore stepped back as the hat stirred to life and began to sing:

_From an age of fighting men,_

_When sword was mightier than the pen,_

_Was born a clansman bold and true,_

_The very one who's brain's imbued_

_Within my brim.  _

_I sat upon his head and saw it all_

_From the reclaim of the Western Highlands _

_And the Norsemen's fall,_

_I saw a Gaelic kingdom rise_

_And rode upon his head to war_

_Freeing York from those despised._

_We returned to find an exiled race,_

_Wizards and Witches now seen with disgrace._

_They gathered and met_

_And all did agree that secrecy_

_Would be the bet that's best._

_A school, they said, would be just right_

_To mold and guide youths' magical might._

_Hogwarts, it was called _

_And the founders, they were tight.  _

_A commune of magic folk did arise_

_And founders sought to pick and choose_

_Those students with qualities they prize._

_Ravenclaw would choose the bright,_

_Slytherin, those of pureblood and ambition_

_Hufflepuff, took ones of hard-working tradition_

_And Gryffindor sought those who'd stand and fight. _

_Good Godric knew of Salazar's aim_

_To study magic and the power each one did claim_

_More power did he seek and hope to gain_

_Through a bloodline pure and without stain._

_But Godric had his own inkling,_

_That through blood, the powers did weaken_

_He'd seen the fact and heard the tale_

_That Muggle blood did yield, without fail_

_The strongest powers, such Slytherin was seeking._

_One day, Gryffindor, with his sword held high_

_Did say he'd return and off to war did ride._

_Slytherin went with him, fighting at his side._

_They held the fortress of Dunnottar,_

_Cloaked as muggles, in disguise._

_Close friends they were and Godric did confide_

_His notions of power and how blood did not abide._

_Slytherin considered him a fool, but then, he did spy_

_A maiden fair, of beauty beyond compare_

_He fell, he wept, he knew he could not bear,_

_To never see, nor hold, nor have love with her to share._

_He tarried but a tiff,_

_When he saw she was not magical._

He recalled Gryffindor's words 

_And Salazar did find his mate to live life with._

_To Hogwarts, they returned with Slytherin now married _

_To one of the race long spurned._

_But when a child she finally bore_

_It was a daughter and even then,_

_Slytherin did not fret,_

_For he knew she would be the most powerful yet._

_Years did pass and magical talent, none was seen._

_She tried and hoped but never gained,_

_The favour of her father, which she did keen._

_Slytherin felt cheated, by beauty, illusions of love_

_And by a friend, he felt betrayed all above.  _

_He sent his mate and kin to pack_

_And always did regret_

_His ever knowing Gryffindor_

_And a love he wished he'd never met._

_Seeking power, to Slytherin returned his aims,_

_But soon, discord did reign,_

_ The founders' feuds to blame._

_'Til Slytherin did leave one morn,_

_Never knowing, to his love, a son was born._

_In giving life, she shed her own._

_The son was a wizard and off to school he did go._

_He learned his craft and history he did not know._

_He left to find his father in lands far and wide._

_Gryffindor, did know, he'd be back_

_To avenge his families' side._

_So he said, 'Now listen, Hat,_

_You've seen it all. You surely know the score._

_One day I'll be gone and around here no more._

_You'll be the one to head my plan and rise up to the call._

_My kin, this school, our world may be in peril,_

_You steer the men to fight the foe_

_Lead them true—it's off to war we go!_

_So put me on your head if you seek to know your worth,_

_I'll tell you how into the Order, you might be going forth._

Harry, who had been stroking Fawkes' plumage during the song, slowed upon its end.  He knew the Sorting Hat all too well, and despite the help it lent just once, he didn't fancy putting it on his head again.  

He felt Hermione nudge him, "Stop scowling, you only have to try on the hat—there's no basilisks."  

He saw her mouth trying not to smile and thought, _Easy for you to say, the hat isn't convinced you'd be brilliant in Slytherin._

_"Brilliant!"_  Harry heard Fred and George say and they both looked eager to put on the hat and get on with it. 

Harry then saw Professor Dumbledore, seated next to him, watching him with his ever-present smile and the twinkle in his clear blue eyes.  Dumbledore's eyes softened when he saw Harry finally look at him and leaned forward as he said, "I have a feeling about this, Harry.  You'll just have to trust me, all right."  

Before Harry could even register a feeling of dread at those words, Dumbledore had rose and spoke to all, "It seems Misters Fred and George Weasley are most anxious to begin, and so, without further ado."  He motioned for either of them to step up the stool as he held up the hat.

"George you go first, I got to be sorted first and so you can do this first."  Fred pushed his brother up to the stool.  

George set himself upon the stool and Dumbledore lowered the hat upon his head.  

There were several moments while most people whispered and watched expectantly.  Harry saw Snape standing in the back of the room, next to where Mrs. Weasley was now standing.  The sight of Snape's face and greasy hair made Harry scowl and Hermione nudged him again, "What are you so worried about?  Harry, you'll be fine.  But we need to talk after this…  I want to know what --"

She was cut off by the hat coming to life to speak from its perch upon George's head, _"Your mind is clear, your loyalties true, you have no fears, the Order accepts you!"_

Harry was surprised to hear a smattering of applause at this, much of it coming from Professor Dumbledore, Hermione and Fred.  He clapped briefly, as well, despite his increasing nerves.  _I don't like Dumbledore having a 'feeling' about this.  This can't be good._

Fred was on the stool now with the hat upon his head.  It took barely a minute this time for the hat to sing out, _"It seems to me, you're but the other half of two!  So as it should be, the Order welcomes you!"_

He barely heard the clapping now as he rose from his seat.  Hermione had squeezed his arm in support before he got up but he had never felt quite so anxious.  His nerves were as bad as his own sorting and his first quidditch match.  _Get a grip, Potter.  It's just a hat.  Maybe if it won't shut it about how I should be in Slytherin, I can close it off from reading my mind with Occlumency.  _

Harry sat upon the stool slowly and Dumbledore stepped in front of him with the hat.  As Dumbledore looked at Harry and gave a look and smile so warm and encouraging, Harry almost felt a brief reprieve from his nerves as he looked in his eyes.   But before he could even take a breath to relax, Harry felt an uncoiling within him, a surge of rage, the snake he had felt the year before, was pushing to rise and swell within.

 Harry closed his eyes quickly and breathed in.  _Damn you, go away!  He felt the struggle within his chest as he fought to contain and push back at the writing being attempting to uncoil within him.  Harry felt the efforts of the snake begin to die down and he knew he was winning.  He imagined forcing the snake into a tiny, tiny ball and then banishing it.  _

He felt the force leave him just as Dumbledore's hand landed on Harry's shoulder, "It was him, wasn't it?  Harry?  Are you all right?"

Harry opened his eyes and saw Dumbledore watching him with concern.  He nodded and then saw behind Dumbledore, members of the Order watching with mixtures of confusion, interest, and unease.  Harry then saw Snape looking at him smugly from the back of the room.  He figured Snape knew what he had just occurred and Harry glared back, meeting Snape's glare from across the room.  _Go on you greasy bastard, I hope Voldemort can see right now!_  He saw Snape falter for a moment as Harry glared at him.  _Yeah, you think about that.  Perhaps if Voldemort can see through my eyes, then he sees you, too.  Sitting here, with the Order of the Phoenix.  No--wait a minute.  Harry couldn't feel anything within him anymore.  There was no snake trying to uncoil within him and urge him to strike out.  _There's no way I wouldn't have noticed **that** in the middle of snogging Hermione!  It can't have been Voldemort!_ _

Harry felt like he just had the best revelation but was brought back to reality and the meeting when Dumbledore said, "Harry, if you are ready, then, the hat."  Dumbledore lifted the hat up and placed it upon his head.  

_Ah yes, Harry Potter, and so I'm on your head again…  _

Harry was dreading one word about 'doing well in Slytherin'.

_Yes, well, perhaps if you'd ever let me finish, boy, then perhaps you might know why it is you would have done well in Slytherin, if—_the hat made to cut Harry off before he could have another thought, _--**if, I say, if you had wanted to be great, as I tempted you with knowing Slytherin House could help you to be, then indeed, you would have done well there.  However, you were not tempted by the allure of greatness, and so, I stand by what I said and my decision to put you in Gryffindor.  **_

Harry was mulling this over and grumbling in his mind.

_Hmm, yes, you've certainly gotten more tetchy over the years, now haven't you.  _

Harry thought, "_Yes, well you'd be tetchy too if you had to be me."_

_Ah, so I see…yes…it seems whether you wish to be great or not, your destiny is clear to me…_

Since learning about Legillimency over the past year, Harry could now easily feel the hat sifting through thoughts and emotions of desire, loyalty, ambition, fears, love, and others.  He hid nothing from the hat and felt it to be almost relaxing to have his memories, thoughts and feelings being sorted and categorized.  

_It's all here, you know, in your head…I can see even what you cannot, you know…_

_"It's all well and great to hear about how much you know about me, now can you just get on with this and let me into the Order,"_ Harry thought impatiently.

_Ah, but you're not meant to be a member of the Order…_

Harry's heart skipped a beat and began to race,_ "What?!?  What are you talking about?  Of course I am!  You say you can see what I have to do—how am I supposed to do this without the help of the Order?"_

_Son, you need to learn to let me finish, I never said you had to do anything without the help of the Order…you should know better…if you need help, then I am bound to give it to you.  But what you need isn't to serve the Order…but for the Order to serve you.  _

The hat paused as Harry was letting this sink in.  _"What do you mean?"_ he thought to the hat.

_What I mean, is, you are the one with the power…you are the one with the burden…you are the one with the responsibility to, not just to 'vanquish', nor to murder, as I can see you think, but you are the one destined to fight this battle.  Whether in victory or defeat, you shall end the war, and with luck, the reign of the Dark Lord.  _

_It's a burden upon you and you know you need help…you want to be helped…you desire to be the victor…this I all can see.  The victor, I am bound to help you to be.  A new war and a new foe we have today, a new light revealed as the one to banish the darkness…you are no member of the Order of the Phoenix, Harry Potter, you are the Lead… the Light…you are—_

Harry was reeling, without even thinking about it he closed his mind off to the hat.  His heart was racing and he could hear it thumping in his chest.  _There's no way… the hat's off its rocker…  If it thinks I'm supposed to—no—it's mad!  I can't be!_

Harry's mind was in a panic as he sat there while the minutes ticked away.  He was oblivious to the hat speaking out loud, still upon its head, "_Dumbledore, please give him a smack and tell tetchy Potter to open his mind back up for me.  Kids, these days…no respect for their elders…"_

Harry felt a hand upon his shoulder.  He opened his eyes and turned his head to see Dumbledore smiling benignly down at him, twinkling away.  Realization washed over him, "You knew!  You…"  Harry shook his head as Dumbledore seemed to try to keep his smile from outright grinning.

Harry was shaking his head slowly back and forth, "No—"

"Harry—what did I say?  _Trust me_."  He nodded twice and said, "Now, the hat has asked for you to, er, open your mind back up to it." 

Harry caught a glimpse of everyone else in the room, watching with rapt attention and what must have been taking at least twice as long as Fred and George's sit on the stool, combined.  

With a deep breath of resolve, Harry began to think to the hat, "_There's just no way. You can't.  I'm at least half the age of most of the members—why would they ever want to listen to me?  I don't know half as much as any of them, well, maybe Snape, but he's a git.  I just can't be!! You **can't** be serious—you just can't—I won't accept it.  I don't want it.  Dumbledore is the greatest wizard in the world—he should be the leader; he is the leader—what will he do?"_

There was a brief pause were Harry wondered if the hat had heard him.  _Yes I heard you.  Are you quite done now?  Quite impressive you are, shutting me out like that, yes, I do believe there's even more to you than one peek inside your head.  _

_So, now I've heard your rant, why don't you let me tell you why will not decline, nay-- I say, you shant!  _

_The fate's been foretold, a burden though this may seem, you've been condemned and blessed, but to our vantage lean.  The one to rally 'round is clear, even you cannot deny, it's not the cross you fear to bear, but to follow one so young—you just don't think they'll try.  _

_It's clear you are resigned to fight until you die, but it's not for you I'll name thee, but for those be disinclined.  Yes, some may waver and may question, and you'll surely still need help.  But now they may know there's still a Light to follow, when the present one goes out!  Do you understand me, are we clear?_

Harry was thinking about this.  "_So, you think you want to name me now so that if something happens to Dumbledore,"_ even the thought made Harry feel abandoned, "_then they won't worry because they know—what?-- that there's this kid who they're supposed to follow? You're still mad…"_

_A mad hat I may be, but a new light they need to see.  At first they may not accept, but soon, before it's time, they'll be able to believe, that you, the Lead, the Light, will steer them all just fine.  _

Harry decided it was time to resort to whining, _"But I don't want to!  You can't make me…" The hat seemed to sigh and then went on. _

_No, but I can help you.  This, I'm bound to do.  _

Harry felt a warmth emanate down from the hat.  It spread down upon his head and in through his body.  It was somewhat like the feeling of Moody's Disillusionment Charm, but this was not just washing over him but _through_ him.  

It spread upon his skin; a warm and glowing heat.  It burst behind his closed eyes and he saw radiant lights of silver and gold.  If Phoenix song could be felt and seen, this is what it'd be.  In fact, Harry thought he could hear the Phoenix song, echoing in his mind and growing stronger as the light infused him.   The sound, the lights, the feel was heartening.  

As the glowing essence seemed to finally fill him up, he felt it reach out to all his limbs.  The warmth ran down his arms and to his fingers, which, then seemed to grow.  He felt his hands began to radiate with heat and from within a power seemed to be reaching out from his hands.  

He knew he had to hold fast to what it was.   The song was growing louder and voices—the voices he'd come to know so well, were singing.  They were as strong as he had ever heard them and their power to give him comfort and heart had never been greater.  

Out of the voices, one came clear and strong.  A voice he had heard only twice before; his father's voice as a man, not when he was a teen, but the same as Harry had heard through the dementors and the same as his shadows, born from Voldemort's wand.  

His song rang clear and true:

_Born to a trial,_

_Gryffindor child!_

_Fearless and brave_

_From birth to the grave,_

_Live on!  Live on!_

_Live on, beloved one!_

_Live on, my warrior son._

The feeling was absolutely radiating from within Harry, now and he had never felt so able to conquer the world as he did now.  In his hands, now clasped before him, he felt something heavy and warm.  His eyes peeked open and he saw, shinning before him and glinting from a light radiating from within, the sword.  In his hands, he held straight up before him, a long silver sword, with a hilt bejeweled with rubies and emblazoned with the name: _Godric Gryffindor_.  

Harry saw the sword in his hands burst into light and then saw the light rush at and melt into his chest.  He looked down and saw the light radiating from himself and slowly die.  

He then heard the Sorting Hat speak within his head.  _Godric may have put his brains in me, but his heart and courage yet live on, imbued within his sword.  This you shall keep, and bold, may you always be.  As if I'd put a Gryffindor in Slytherin… and then the last words were spoke out loud, _"…Let the reign of the new Lead Light begin!"__

"I what?"

"Glowed—you were _positively glowing!"_ Hermione rushed on, "I had no clue why it was taking so long, and you looked so agitated—_oh, Harry!_  Everyone else—I could see them, they didn't know what to think!  And then Fawkes was singing!  I was really quite confused and worried, until I noticed Professor Dumbledore, that is.  He seemed to be watching and smiling as if he had expected it all along!"

"Indeed I did."  Dumbledore stepped over to join Harry, the twins, and Hermione in the corner of the kitchen.  After the hat had spoke, the room had burst into chaos and questions.  Harry had stumbled off the chair and turned to head into the corner and had begun to pace.  He was quickly stopped as Hermione, Fred and George had rushed over.  They had been awed by what they had seen and were eager to tell Harry what it had looked like.

Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling and Harry was quite sure this was what he had meant by his 'having a feeling'.  "Might I have a word with Harry?"  

The twins and Hermione reluctantly left them alone and Harry finally looked dolefully at Dumbledore, who only chuckled then.  "Harry, I had a feeling this would happen.  And I do believe I could not be happier!"  

He watched Harry's face blanche with anxiety.  "Harry, I do believe this is the right thing."

"Now?"  Harry was still incredulous at what had just happened.  

"Yes, now.  Of my reasoning, I can tell you more later.  For now, we need to deal with them."  He gestured at the Order members still stunned and clamoring over what they had just witnessed.  Harry saw Remus catch his eye from across the room and then begin to quietly make his way over.  

"Harry," Dumbledore went on, "I'll ask you now; do you trust me?"

Harry looked up at him and at his face, now serious.  "Of course!"  

Dumbledore nodded, "Then I do believe, if it is your wish, we might maintain the status quo for running the Order; with myself overseeing things and functioning as the Lead, until such a time as you wish to take over or I can longer serve this role."  

Harry peered deep into Dumbledore's eyes and thought he felt, in the back of his head, he might have an inkling of what Dumbledore really meant.  

Lupin reached them then and said, "This isn't going over well.  Sorry Harry, I mean no offense, but they are saying they think you are too young and that this is too much burden to place upon you."  He looked at Dumbledore, "Some may suspect you're setting this up."

Dumbledore just nodded as if this were expected.  Harry muttered, "Like I didn't try to tell the Hat this would happen…"

"What did the hat tell you?"  Lupin asked.

Harry recalled the Hat's words.  The memory of the power of the sword and the words of his father filled his heart again and he felt a clarity in his mind and new confidence when he spoke, "It said this was not another burden upon me, but a means to help me.  It's nothing more I already have and is meant to help the others to accept me for when the time comes."  He looked to Dumbledore then, "I think it does mean for you to continue in your role."  

Dumbledore nodded once and then turned to the others, he raised his hands for silence and in a few moments the talk died down.  "Now, I am sure you all have questions and more than a few may have objections.  However, to myself, this was not unexpected.  Harry and I, as well as the Hat it seems, all agree that we might continue, for a while, to operate as we have thus far, with myself as the acting Lead of the Order.  Harry will be busy with training and school and until such time as he is needed or wishes to take over, I will remain serving the Order as I have for the past sixty years.  Are there any objections to this?"

Harry saw several members still shift uneasily and Professor McGonagall was the one who spoke mater-of-factly, "Albus, it seems cruel to put so much on one so young.  We all understand what Harry can do and hope to help him if we can.  But he shouldn't have to feel he has to do it all."

Mrs. Weasley had been nodding along emphatically and added, "He is a child!  We should not rely on him to be the _only_ one we can rely upon!"  

Moody had been studying Harry carefully since the Hat came off and he now asked, "What I want to know is, does Potter want it?"

Harry looked at him and raised his eyebrows, "Well," he thought and then said, "want it?  No, perhaps not.  But," he felt the pride surge within and said, "accept it?  I do."

"Harry," Remus spoke beside him, "you should not feel obligated—"

"I am."  Harry said simply.

"There are others...," someone said.

"Who else?"  Harry questioned them.  He heard and then saw, Snape, who had been quiet all this time, scoff and glower from the corner by the pantry.  

Dumbledore broken in before anyone could say another word, "There is one last matter then tonight."  Harry turned to look at him and with a look they shared, Harry knew it was the matter of sharing the true prophecy.  With so many not willing to accept the hat's pronouncement, he would to confide in a few, so that they might convince others to accept the choice.  

"Harry, have you made your choices?"  

He'd been thinking about it, of course, and as he looked about the room at the face of each of the members gathered there, he felt ready to do this.  He turned back to Dumbledore, "Now?  Tonight?"

Dumbledore considered this for a moment and then spoke to the assembly, "It has grown quite late tonight.  Your reluctance to accept this event was also not unforeseen to myself.  I had instructed Harry to consider whom he might wish to take into his confidence on a few matters.  

"There are events and truths of which none here but Harry and myself have knowledge.  These are the things we feel you would have to know to truly understand the Hat's decision.  That is what Harry has to divulge to those whom he chooses, in which to confide.  I should mention, everyone here and in the Order shall not know.  It is necessary only for those whom Harry has selected, to testify their acceptance.  Harry will let us know his choices and then those who are chosen, we shall met not tonight, but yet this week.   You will all hear from those who were chosen next week.  Harry, let's hear you have chosen."

Harry saw them all eyeing him exclusively; some with unease and some with anticipation, hoping to be chosen.  His eyes landed on the familiar, gnarled face and he said, "Moody."  The old man grunted and raised a hand in acknowledgement.  

Harry moved his gave along the table, "Professor McGonagall."  She looked pleased to be named.  She had been helping him train and her only words spoken out tonight against him had been businesslike and not of disdain.  He had a feeling she would be most supportive and vociferous in her defense of Harry's right to the Order.  

Harry then remembered who was standing beside him still, "Remus, of course."  Harry looked him in the eye and saw Lupin was genuinely flattered to be chosen as a confidant.  Harry saw the twins and Hermione behind Lupin and knew they would support him whether they knew or not.  _I know I want Hermione to know.  She'll be there, of course.  But it would do no good to name her here--she's just been inducted and won't hold much sway._

 He turned back to the table and the members.  _Mrs. Weasley--she's already going mad the more and more she finds out I know.  If she knew this--I don't even want to imagine…Mr. Weasley might be all right…no, Mrs. Weasley would beat it out of him_.  He scanned the faces of several members he did not know well at all.  He thought briefly of Tonks but nixed that thinking she was, perhaps, not the best choice to keep a secret.  

His gaze then fell upon the greasy, sneering face in the corner, by the pantry.  _You bloody git, wouldn't you like to know…why Dumbledore ever chose to put his trust in you, is beyond me…I'd love to see your greasy face if you were told I'm the only thing able to save your arse from a life of servitude to your Dark Lord…_

"Snape."  It was said in a moment of brashness that lacked any real forethought and before Harry could be horrified at what he'd said, he felt a rush of satisfaction at seeing the look of shock on the bastard's face.  He turned to Dumbledore, who was looking quite pleased, and said, "That's all."  

"Very well then.  This meeting is at an end." Dumbledore pronounced.  He turned to Harry, saying, "Harry, Hermione, if I might have a word with you both in private?  I will send some food up to the library study for yourselves, let us go now."  He motioned to the door and they left the others behind.

"Harry, how much have you told Hermione of your scar connection to Lord Voldemort?"  They were seated in the library study at the chairs by the fireplace.  Neither Harry nor Hermione could bring themselves to eat anything just yet, as they were both dreading how this conversation may go.  

"Er, well, I think she knows all that I know?"  It ended as more of a question than an answer and Hermione leaned forward.

"May I?" she asked.  Dumbledore and Harry nodded and she said, "Well, I know it causes Harry pain. When Voldemort is angry or feeling violent or is near.  I know Harry has sometimes seen things that he was doing or felt things he was feeling.  I know Harry's had dreams influenced by him.  I know Voldemort was likely aware of his ability to reach Harry after the attack on Mr. Weasley and that's why Harry began to study Occlumency."  She saw Dumbledore nod, encouraging her to go on.

"I know he tried to manipulate you to get the prophecy with your dreams and then," she paused and said softly to Harry, " then with the vision of Sirius."  She looked at Dumbledore, "I, he," she looked at Harry, "you haven't said anything about still having dreams or…"

"I'm not.  Not really," said Harry.

"Very well then." Dumbledore said.  "Well, you both heard Professor Snape's conclusion of how Voldemort was able to see through Harry's eyes."  Both Harry and Hermione shifted uncomfortably at this.  "However, I would like to say, and that I believe it may have been something else entirely."

Harry was nodding his head, "Yes, I mean, I was thinking about this and after I felt him within me tonight." Harry looked at Hermione's confusion and explained, "Right before he put the Sorting Hat on--I felt Voldemort inside me.  It's happened before, last year.  But I didn't know what it was.  Anyway," he looked back at Dumbledore, "sir, there is no way I would not notice how that felt.  No way.  I would have known of he were there."  

"Ah, Harry, that is something else entirely, I believe.  You will notice him then because he is reaching out through the connection in an effort to possess.  He seeks then to possess and reach into and strike out through you; seeking and urging you, perhaps to act upon his emotions.  His hatred for me is perhaps only paralleled by that he feels for you now.  We can and shall examine that more closely in our session on Sunday.  

"You know, it's how Voldemort likely felt when he was possessing the snake and during his attempt to harm Arthur, you recognized someone you cared for and did not wish to harm.  Your emotions tried to reach out and exert your own influence then.  Your trying to act to prevent the attack made it impossible for him to not notice you."

Harry felt this did make sense and Dumbledore went on, "However, you will recall, Harry, that you have glimpsed into Voldemort's mind, seen through his eyes and felt his emotions before on occasions where he has not been aware of you.  On those occasions, as Hermione mentioned, when he was feeling particularly angry or violent, the connection enabled you to enter his mind and you felt pain in your scar.  Do you remember?"  

Harry nodded and Dumbledore, twinkling, asked, "Do you also remember, Harry, the power I said you had, the power which Voldemort cannot withstand?" 

"…" Harry snapped his mouth shut.  _Love_.  Harry looked at Dumbledore.  _What is he saying?  I wish he would stop that twinkling…what…?  _Harry dropped his head into his hands, thinking over the possible implications and what this might mean.  He did not notice Hermione sitting impatiently and watching and waiting to hear what this was.

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke, "I believe it is most likely that those feelings you feel, when they are particularly intense and perhaps, perceived, as well, they allow your mind to reach across the connection as Voldemort's anger does to you.  As you felt pain from him, he feels through you."

Harry was letting this sink in.  He gave a short, dry laugh at thought of being able to fight Voldemort by snogging Hermione.  _Not just snog…love…this means you love her…_ The laugh left him and he choked at this new thought.  _Do I?_  This was an entirely new concept altogether now.  

"Well," Dumbledore said, "I wanted you to know this now tonight.  What you share with Ms. Granger is completely up to you."  Harry looked up, stricken, to the old headmaster twinkling away.  "This gives up interesting perspectives on the connection between you and we can discuss it more on Sunday.  

"Also, Harry, we can arrange to meet with those you've selected in which to confide."  He gave a look at Hermione and then back to Harry, "As well as anyone else you might wish to include."  

Harry nodded and cleared his throat to say, "I do, actually want Hermione to be there."  Harry looked at her and saw her beam at this.  "I'm not sure about who else…"

Dumbledore said, "I must say Harry, I was most impressed with your decisions tonight."

Harry looked at him and shook his head, "I'm not sure why I chose him…" He wasn't; not now.  Now the idea of being seated in a room with Snape and sharing the most private, (well, _nearly_ the most private) thing in his life with one whom he hated so much, was not sounding like the best idea.

"I know why."  Dumbledore stood up and twinkled at Harry.

"Why?"  Harry truly needed to hear one good reason for what he had done.

"Because you still do not trust him." 

This made no sense to Harry and his face must have shown this.

"You see Harry, the quickest way to know whether someone is trustworthy or not, is to tell them a secret.  In your offering of trust, you might allow him to _earn_ your trust."  With that, he bid them goodnight and left them alone.  

*            *            *            *            *

Author's note: I have a Yahoo group, HP_AoF, (the website on my bio profile) where I also post my chapters. (For those times when FF.net just decides to shut down and leave us all in fanfic-withdrawal.) I also will upload any relevant files (floor plans, song files, etc) to this site.


	16. Chapter 19 Secrets, Secrets

A/N: Yes, it took a whole week to get this one out.  I was moving this past weekend (ditching the boyfriend) and knew it would be cutting it close-- but here it is!!!  I added extra heavy snogging to make you all like me.  

Chapter 19. Secrets, Secrets

Harry had left the library quickly after Dumbledore and meant to go to his room and to just try to absorb all the night's events but he was stopped by Hermione who had followed him upstairs, "Harry?"

He turned and saw her looking at him with a mixture of exasperation, confusion and pleading.  He tore his eyes away from her and fumbled with the door to his room.  

"Aren't you going to tell me what this is all about?"  She sounded fearful, afraid of being left out and with a note of bitterness that whatever it was she didn't know, clearly involved her, to some extent.  

"I just need to go to bed," he said as he finally got the door open. 

But she wasn't to be brushed off; he had barely stepped into the room and she was there.  "Harry, I need to know…please," she begged.  

Harry was afraid to tell her what was on his mind, he was afraid to look at her and he was afraid these things combined would set her off.  He didn't blame her; he'd want answers too. But he didn't have the answers to give.  

"Look, Hermione, I just…I need to…I know you want to know and you want me to tell you now, but I think…I think I don't know…yet."  Harry was carefully not looking directly at her to avoid channeling Voldemort and to avoid her pleading eyes.  

"Look at me, Harry.  Can't you even look at me?" 

Oh, no.  She sounded near tears and Harry said, "No, not right now—it's not you.  It's Voldemort.  I need to figure this out.  I…I just can't tell you until I figure this out."

"How you feel you mean, when you're with me.  You need to figure out how you feel when you're with me."

He was surprised to hear her know this and also a little bit fearful of the subject being addressed so candidly and he looked briefly at her in shock and then turned away.

"Don't look so surprised.  If you felt Voldemort when he was angry and violent and if you're the one the Order's meant to have lead the fight, then it makes sense that you're the antithesis of him and that he might feel you when you're happy," she said simply. 

It was near enough to the truth and more near to what Harry might have her believe for now and as he sighed in mild relief, he conceded, "Something like that."  

He saw her turn away and was thankful, thinking she was going to her own room now and he might really be able to think over the night but as she was at his door and called out goodnight, he heard her voice break.

"Please don't cry," he begged quietly as he turned to see her in the doorway.  

She turned back and he closed his eyes as he saw her rush forth and fling herself at him.  Her arms were around him and she was all-out crying now.  It hit him that she had endured a lot tonight, as well.  She had been the first publicly hit target of the war and her home had been violated by Death Eaters and Voldemort.  Her face had been glimpsed by Voldemort when she should have felt most safe.  Harry knew he really should be there for her and seeing as how Voldemort knew exactly why she would be this way, then it really wouldn't matter if he saw.  He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.  He felt his own troubles vanish in the comfort of holding her to him.

"Please, Harry," she sobbed and he felt his shirt dampen with tears.  "I don't want to be alone tonight."  

She slept the night nestled against him and Harry spent most of the night wide-awake.  He alternated between replaying the events of the night over in his head and between being distracted by Hermione having fitful dreams.  When he saw her fretting in her sleep, he took to smoothing the hair back from her face and kissing her forehead gently and held her tightly until she would fall back into peaceful slumber.

Harry had left her there to sleep in the next morning when he left for training with Moody.  He was happy to see that the ex-Auror was still as demanding and unpredictable as ever, despite having been a witness to the previous night's events.  

At the close of their training he called Harry over and said, "I'll thank you for trusting me with your secret, whatever it is.  You've got my word that whatever it is, it'll stay a secret as you long as you like."  

Harry thanked him and went back to his room to change out of his sweaty clothes.  He saw that Hermione had awoke and could hear by the sound of the shower next door, that she was in there.  He was momentarily distracted with pondering the sight of Hermione in the shower…naked…wet…until he heard a voice from the chair beside his fire, "Hey Harry."

Ron was seated there and had moved the small gaming table out in front of the chair and upon it, set up a chessboard.  'You were up early.  Is Mad-Eye part of your training?"

Harry flung himself down in the opposite chair exhaustedly, "Yeah, he's brutal.  How was Diagon Alley?  How was the broom?"  

They began a game of chess and bantered easily back and forth, with not a hint of the argument from the day before.  

Just as Ron swung his knight into position to neutralize Harry's bishop, Hermione came into the room, "Harry I just wanted to thank—," she stopped short at seeing Ron in the room and Harry watched Ron's face as it went from shock, to unease, and then to regret.  

Hermione stammered, "Well, I can come back later…"

"No--," Ron stood awkwardly and said, "you can stay…I heard…Mum told us…" Harry saw Ron swallow and redden as he pushed on, "about your house and all… and I reckon…I reckon we really shouldn't be fighting now…" he stole a quick glance at Harry, who looked down in a futile effort to pretend he hadn't a clue what was going on. "I reckon we all need our friends more than ever right now."  

Harry couldn't help but look at this and see Ron's face a brilliant red and then to see Hermione staring slack-jawed at Ron's confession and apology.  

Hermione regained her composure, waved, and said, "Forget it."  She stepped forward and grasped a hand of Ron's and one of Harry's and said with shiny eyes, "We're friends: always have been and always will be."  

They got along well that day as Hermione began to lecture Ginny with what she might expect to plan to revise for her upcoming OWL exams and Ron regaled Harry with every excruciating minute detail of the new broom released the previous day in Diagon Alley.  They never mentioned Ron and Hermione's previous animosity nor the attack on Hermione's house.  Mrs. Weasley remained, notably, out of sight.

That night, as they all slipped off to their own rooms to turn in for the night, Harry set at his desk with his journal and began to write his recollection of the events from the past few days.  He was still struggling to comprehend and bend his head around everything that had happened.  

He had just completed a chronicle of his induction into the Order when a soft knock at his door broke into his drifting mind.  He could feel by the perimeter charm he had erected earlier that it was a familiar presence at the door and one that elicited a warm tingle on his skin as the charm ward was breeched.

He opened the door a crack to see Hermione, in her nightclothes, grinning impishly and then slip in past him, brushing ever so slowly and lightly against him as she passed.  

He shut the door and sealed it with a spell and turned to find her just behind him and still with a ghosting grin as she caught her lower lip in her teeth.  

His eyes never left her lower lip until he was tasting it and tugging it between his own lips and teeth.  He hadn't kissed her like this in two days and now that he had her again, it felt more like it had been two years.  

Hermione pressed herself against him and he felt electrified as their bodies made contact.  Her head tilted back and she opened her mouth to him and he took it eagerly and held her head to him as he struggled to satisfy his hunger for the taste of her mouth.  

She moaned and he pulled up to gasp for air and then, upon seeing her neck arched before him, he began to kiss beneath her ear.  He trailed down her neck and to her throat where the sight of her chest, contracting with her ragged breathing made his head feel light.  

He kissed down along the hem of her v-neck t-shirt and then up the other side and back up her throat and neck and then nuzzled in her ear as her head was flung up and she began to kiss below his own ear.  

"I want you."  The words rushed across his lips and into her ear as his hands slid across her back and up her sides. 

"Harry…" she gasped as he pressed himself against her with evidence of his want. 

He opened his eyes to see her pull back her head and look hungrily at him. She attacked his mouth then and pressed back at him as he spun them around. He walked her backwards until her knees hit the bed and they fell back, with him on top of her.  

He was kissing and sucking at her throat as her fingers laced thru his silky locks.  Her hands in his hair only furthered his frenzy.   

He slid off to the side and his hand slid up from her waist to just beneath her breast.  He drew back from kissing her and watched for her reaction as he ever so slowly glanced his thumb over the swell.  Her eyes opened and locked with his and he felt the combined swelling in his own chest of adrenaline and emotion.

_There.  He froze and shut his eyes as he ever so briefly had felt his heart begin to swell.  _That has to be it—what reaches out to Voldemort…_  He tried to replay it over in his mind and categorize the emotion and feeling to understand just what it might mean._

"Harry?  What is it?  Are you okay?" she whispered as she placed one hand over his.

"Shhh."   He needed to concentrate to map the feeling he had just had.  He needed to hold on to the memory, but it was fleeting.  It was gone.  

 He rolled over on his back and away from her and opened his eyes to stare up at the canopy of his bed.  

Hermione rolled over onto her side then and looked down at Harry.  "Was it him?" she asked concernedly as she placed a hand on his chest.

He saw her brown eyes inquisitive and not without worry.  "No, it was me.  We need to talk." 

She nodded and recollected herself and then sat up on the bed and he followed her lead.  

Harry saw Hermione blush slightly as she said, "That's actually why I came in here tonight."  

He quirked up a smile at this and glanced down, mumbling, "Sorry."

She laughed, "S'all right.  Go on then.  We do need to talk.  I've been dying to get you alone all day—to talk of course," she reached for his hand and said, "and more."

He looked at her and remembered this was nearly the same position they had been in the night they kissed like this on his bed.  "We should, well, I think maybe I should just not be looking at you when I try to explain this."

She shook back her hair, "Well, that's just it, Harry, what more can Voldemort find out?  If he already thinks we are together and identified me as a target, then what else have we to lose by being together?"

"Well," Harry hedged, "depending upon when I feel what I feel that reaches to him, he might be able to eavesdrop in or something."

Her brow furrowed and she said, "I don't understand."  She paused a moment and then said, "Oh, you mean how you have seen and heard things with your visions?  But can't you shut him out now that you know what to do?"

"Remember what you said about me feeling happy, triggering the connection to him and causing him to feel pain?" she nodded, "Well, it's more like that…when I am happy, not just having fun or something, but happy—happy to be with you, perhaps…then I think it's triggered."  

Harry purposefully wasn't looking directly at Hermione's face and he felt it best to not quite trigger the connection until he fully understood it.  "But, you are perhaps, right.  I mean, I'm not sure what he might glean from seeing us, together, that is.  On one hand, if it causes him pain and discomfort for us to, you know—"

"Snog?" Hermione smirked.

Harry grinned at her, "Yeah, then it can't be all that bad.  But on the other hand, we can't let him gain more information than he already has.  I'm not sure how it all works exactly.  When I stopped before, I think I thought that I might have felt whatever _it_ was that triggers it.  I'm just not sure."  Harry hated to have to stop what they had been doing and wasn't sure he could do so again if needed, so it was with great resolve he said, "I think we should, maybe that is, I really don't want to, but—"

"What?" Hermione pleaded.

"You know, I don't know if it's wise, is all…for us to, to be together and, you know…_do stuff."  He really hoped she knew what he meant because by now, even he wasn't sure if he meant what he thought he meant.   "Do you know what I mean?  Just until tomorrow—I see Dumbledore tomorrow afternoon and I need to talk to him about this all."  It didn't sound like the most pleasant conversation to have with someone and Harry could already imagine him twinkling away at the subject but Harry could think of no other person to consult.  _

Hermione just nodded and said, "If you think it's best.  Then I guess that's what we should do."  She looked down a moment and then up out with her head tilted to one side and asked shyly, "Do you think we can still, sleep next to each other?  I just feel so safe with you and after what happened… it will be dark and we won't be talking—there's nothing for him to glean. Can we?"

Harry grinned again, "Three nights in a row—it might become a habit."  

They snuggled down under the duvet on Harry's bed and as he waved the lights out, he set his wand on the nightstand.  He turned back to pull Hermione close and she whispered, "Good night," and leaned in to give him what was meant to be a quick peck on the mouth.  Rather, it turned into a succession of longer and longer kisses and Harry soon found himself abandoning the idea of just holding each other.  Whether it was just their proximity under the covers and the darkness of night or the exhilarating rush of daring to do what they had half-heartedly forbidden themselves to do, it was nearly an hour and half later before they finally settled down and drifted off to sleep.

Hermione slipped out of bed early in the morning and kissed a sleepy Harry on the forehead as he mumbled in his sleep.  She slipped back into her room unnoticed and the morning slipped by with Ron challenging Harry, Hermione and Ginny to a chess tournament.  Harry suspected that Ron was trying to show he held no hard feelings towards Hermione by pairing him up with Ginny first, while Ron played against Hermione.  

After lunch, Harry slipped off to the library study to meet with Dumbledore.  He found the headmaster already there and waiting.  

"Good afternoon, Harry."  

"Sir, good afternoon."  Harry sat nervously in a chair by the fire and agitatedly bounced his knee.   

Dumbledore seemed to watch Harry's agitation with amusement and asked, "Is there something bothering you, Harry?"

"Yes!" he nearly shouted, and then went on "I just, sir, I mean, I just don't know what to do!"  Harry looked desperately at Dumbledore.  Since last night's decision for him and Hermione to try to keep their _interactions_ to a minimum, Harry had felt like there was no room in his mind for anything else but thoughts of Hermione: thoughts of her reading, thoughts of her laughing, thoughts of kissing her, thoughts of holding her and lying beside her, thoughts of touching her as he did under the cover of darkness last night—if this went on for much longer, Harry would surely go mad.

Dumbledore just twinkled and asked, "Which predicament are we talking about now, hmm?"

Harry looked at him with exasperation, "_Her—Hermione!_  What _else_?"

"Ah, yes.  That predicament."  The amusement with which Dumbledore seemed to be treating Harry's problem was not sitting well with him.

"Yes, _that predicament!  What am I supposed to do now?  How can I avoid her completely?  I've tried—well, not really, but I mean, I should, right?" Harry was falling apart and only mumbled, "I just don't want to."  He taken to whining a lot lately; he must have been regressing into the childhood he never had._

"Harry, I think you'll be just fine.  What you need to remember is that you have been practicing Occlumency and are more skilled than you give yourself credit.  Last night you were able to close your mind to a very powerful magical object that is as skilled in Legilimency as myself or Lord Voldemort.  

"Do you not think that Voldemort has learned to close his mind off to you by now when he wants to?  Since he has been aware of the connection you share, he has controlled it, only allowing it to reach out to you when he has wanted to manipulate you.  You, Harry, can do the same now."  Dumbledore paused and summoned a tea tray from the table and set about pouring two cups.  "The misconceptions that Professor Snape spoke of last night also can lead us to believe that Voldemort, nor his followers truly know the nature of the connection.  It is, however, possible that now that Voldemort perceives pain when your triggering emotion calls forth the connection, he may attempt to ascertain if he can also cause you pain.  Which, of course, we know has been the case.  However, that is also one of the reasons that Occlumency has become essential to master.  You will now be able to shut off the connection to avoid the pain."

Harry was still not thinking this was all so well and good.  "But won't Voldemort want to wait and use the connection to be able to glean information from it?"

"Perhaps, for a while.  However, Harry, he will have to weigh the benefits of waiting for opportune information against enduring a pain he cannot withstand.  Also, whereas when his anger and hate that triggered the connection to you were often associated with his plottings and plannings, your, shall we say, _triggering emotion_, is rarely, I might assume, related to or involving our own plans or the secret dealings of the Order—am I correct?  Also, once you learn to identify when the emotion is within you, you can then practice shutting off the connection before it ever reaches him.'

Harry nodded eagerly, "Yes, I think I might have already done that.  Noticed _it_, I mean."  _Ergh—why does this have to be so bloody difficult to talk about!_

Dumbledore seemed quite pleased to hear this and said, "Well then, with some more practice, I would imagine you may be able to identify and control it in no time.  I trust you can work that into your schedule?"  

Dumbledore twinkled and Harry felt himself blush and stammer at the implication.

"Now, Harry, we need to decide when and how to share our secret with those you've chosen.  Do you have a preference?"

Harry swallowed loudly and welcomed the change of topic.  "Soon."  Dumbledore nodded in agreement. They moved on to further discuss some of the other recent events and then to discus some of the theoretical implications and advantages to Harry's mastery of Occlumency.  Harry had yet to master the art of deception and manipulation through Occlumency and he was now more motivated than ever, to become proficient in this aspect.

They made plans to arrange to meet with those Harry had chosen the next evening.  Harry left the study and found Hermione, Ron and Ginny all in the drawing room. He paused outside the room.   No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't imagine dealing with Ron knowing the prophecy.  Maybe he wasn't giving him enough credit or maybe it was some warped payback for how he had treated Hermione.  No, he just couldn't see anything good to come of telling him.  Ron would freak out about it or he would just shrug it off and then go back to mindless banter about quidditch—neither of which Harry felt he needed.  If anything, Harry needed Ron to remain a friend to whom he could always go to and forget about what the prophecy meant for him and a friend who just reminded Harry what is was like to be normal.

Harry saw Ginny look up as if she had felt Harry watching them.  Harry put a finger to his lips to urge Ginny to be quiet that he was there.  He pointed to Hermione, who was reading a book on the sofa next to Ginny.  Ginny quietly nudged Hermione and pointed to the doorway where Harry was.  

Hermione looked up and smiled at Harry standing just at the edge of the doorway.  He waved her to come out of the room and he ducked back around the corner and heard her excuse herself from the drawing room.  

She came out into the hall and spotted Harry, "Oh, there you are!"  

He shushed her and pulled her near.  He checked both ways and whispered into her ear, "I just got done with Dumbledore.  He wants to meet with everyone tomorrow night.   You'll know everything then."

He saw Hermione's eyes widen as she nodded and then Harry turned as he heard Remus topping the stairs and turn down the hall.  "Remus—" Harry motioned for him to come near.  "Did Dumbledore just talk to you?"  Lupin nodded and Harry went on, "Good, you both will be there.  There's just one problem now," he beckoned for them to follow him down the hallway and into the library.

Harry checked once more out in the hall, before shutting the door and turning back to them, "You're the only two here now who will be there.  I don't know what to tell the others.  Ron will go spare if he finds out there's a secret he's not being let in on.  Dumbledore said just to have everyone meet in the kitchen tomorrow night at seven, but now that I think about, even Mrs. Weasley might pitch a fit if she gets wind of it."  Harry just wanted to avoid the drama scenes from here on out if he could.  

Remus looked concerned, "Don't you trust Ron?  I thought you all share everything?"

Harry snuck a glance at Hermione, who hid her face, and said, "Well, it's not that I don't trust him, it's just that I'm not sure how well he would take it." Harry looked between Hermione and Remus, "It's just that everyone I've chosen to share this with—I'm doing so because I can't imagine not sharing it with you—such as the both of you and also because I think I can rely upon you all to be able to handle it.  To help me…  well maybe not help so much, as just not to freak out or anything…maybe to just understand it and then maybe to help me to… oh hell, I have no idea what I'm talking about!"

Both Hermione and Remus looked like there were alternating between amusement and confusion.  Hermione came to his rescue though and said, "You mean to support you, Harry?  You know you can count on us."

Harry felt relieved to have a word to describe it.  "Yes.  That's it."  

Remus smiled at this and said, "Yes, Harry, you know you can count on us.  And I can take care of the others.  In fact, I'm sure Arthur would help if I just ask and he can try to provide a distraction."

Remus left them alone and then Harry became acutely aware that he was alone with Hermione.  He felt her look at him as he stared into the fire.  "Did you and Dumbledore talk about…your connection with Voldemort?"  

Harry nodded slowly, not taking his eyes away from the fire, yet, all the while, watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye.

He saw her step closer to him and he could feel the heat from her body as she whispered, "What did he say?"  

Harry swallowed with difficulty as he said, "He said we should be okay, as long as were not discussing secret details of the Order or anything when it happens and," he turned to look at her now.  He noticed (how could he not?) that she was now wearing a very tight white button down shirt that was open at the top few buttons in a way that made her look more than just a little alluring.  After last night's explorations, his hands knew all too well the feel of just what it was this particular shirt showed off just so well.  

"And what?" she drew his mind back up to her face.

One of her hands fingered his own hand at his side and he grasped it as he said in a low voice that he barely felt he could control, "He said I should practice identifying the emotions that trigger the connection."  

He saw her lips form the shape of the word, "Oh," and she met him halfway as he dived forth to feel her searing lips fight his own for control and begin to seek to satisfy the hunger of not having kissed each other for at least, oh say, twelve hours or so—it seemed more like a year.  

Harry pushed her back a few steps until she was pressed against a bookcase and his mouth was now abandoning hers to venture down her throat and towards the neckline of her shirt.  As his mouth moved lower, the hand at her waist moved higher and he heard he moan and then gasp.  

"Oh!  S-sorry…I'll just…." 

It wasn't Hermione who had gasped and he realized it as soon as he heard Ginny begin stammering.  Harry had turned just in time to see Ginny turn a brilliant red and hasten out the room, slamming the door behind her before either he or Hermione could say a word.  

Harry was still staring at the slammed door as Hermione caught her breath and said, "Should I go after her?"  Harry's brain was still deprived of oxygen as other parts of his body had been commandeering his blood flow and he nodded dumbly.  

Hermione rushed out of the library and Harry waited a few moments for his blood flow to equilibrate before he wandered upstairs to his own room to fall upon his bed and stare at the ceiling.  _What a day.  What a week.  What a life.   _

He shrugged off dinner to stay in his room that night and just had Dobby bring him a meal to his room.  Ron tried to convince Harry to play chess with him but Harry begged off saying he was still tired and that he had a ton of homework to get completed.  Which wasn't really a lie, it also, just so happened, to strike a nerve with Ron to be reminded that he and Harry now had so many different classes and Harry thought, for a moment, that Ron was going to get hacked off.  Instead Ron asked, "Harry, I was thinking, it might not be too late to try to switch back to take Charms and maybe ask about getting an exception to be allowed into Transfiguration.  What do you think?"  

"Er, sure.  That'd be great.  What did you get in Transfiguration?"

Ron looked down, "Only an A—I know I needed an E to get into NEWT level," he looked up hopefully at Harry, "but don't you think McGonagall might bend the rules for me?"  

Harry nodded, "Sure, mate.  She might—you never know until you ask."

Ron seemed excited now and said, "Right—I think I'll go write her and ask then."  He turned to leave and called back, "Hope you're feeling better tomorrow!"

Hermione slipped into Harry's room again that night they continued to expand their explorations of each other as they entwined under the covers.  It was easier, Harry felt, to just abandon themselves to the feelings of bliss and sensation in the dark where he wasn't thinking about how he felt about Hermione or looking deeply into her eyes.  He felt he'd deal with those feelings and what they meant later; the night was just for them.  

The next day Harry felt jumpy and agitated as he kept checking the time and counting down until the meeting with Dumbledore.  He barely noticed when Hermione nearly wept for joy at her first successful apparition while they worked in the Practice Hall with Remus.  

Hermione had told him that Ginny wouldn't say a word about their relationship and said she even understood why they were keeping it from Ron for the present time.  She also said Ginny would help to run interference whenever they needed it.  

About an hour before dinner, Mrs. Weasley rushed into the drawing room where Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny were.  Harry was just about to lose his third straight game to Ron as his queen was being spectacularly bludgeoned by a vicious knight.  

"Ron, Ginny, dear, we need to go out tonight for dinner.  Your father just flooed and said that Percy would meet us at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner tonight.  Now go and change to go out."  

Ginny hopped up and looked eager to go, but Ron whined, "Can't Harry and Hermione come, too?"   

Mrs. Weasley looked apologetically at Harry and then Hermione, "Well, not right now.  I'm sure they understand.  Oh Harry, dear, Percy should probably make amends with you, too but let's just see how he does with just the family."

Harry quickly jumped up and waved it off, "That's all right.  I understand.  Hermione and I could both do to work on our Potions essays, I reckon."

Harry saw Ginny smirk at this as she turned and left the room.  Mrs. Weasley seemed relieved to not have to make further excuses and she pulled Harry into a crushing hug, saying, "Harry you just focus on your studies.  That's a good boy.  I know Professor Snape gives you a hard time but I think he is secretly quite pleased with how well you did on your OWL."  

Harry nearly choked from the combined pressure of the hug and trying not to hurl at the notion of Snape just giving Harry a hard time but really being pleased with him—_as if!!_

As soon as the Weasleys left Grimmauld Place, Harry hurriedly asked Hermione about something that had been playing on his mind for a few days now, "Er, I was wondering, you remember that jinx you put on the list everyone signed in the DA?  Well, I was wondering if there is something we can do to make sure or at least know, if anyone who meets tonight spills what they learn.  Do you think you know of anything?"

Harry knew it might be just a futile effort to try to keep such fully trained wizards as Moody, Snape, and McGonagall in check with a simple jinx but he felt he should at least try something.  If anyone would know of a way to do it, it would be Hermione.  

She looked at him and he could see her mind already working through the possibilities.  She nodded and said, "I think I can put something together.  Do you mind if you ask them to sign something or do you want to keep it secret?"

"Won't they know what it is if they have to sign something?" Harry asked?

Hermione shook her head slowly, "Perhaps, but I might have an idea…would you mind asking them?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I guess not."  

Hermione rushed out of the room then and began pouring through books in her room.  Harry, meanwhile, took to pacing in his own room until Hermione dragged him down to the kitchen at quarter to seven.  

"I just need you for this one part.  I'm tying it into a loyalty charm to you."  She positioned him in the doorway to the kitchen and told him to stand still while she muttered some incantations while reading from a book.  

"There," she said, "now it's activated when anyone walks in through the door--everything they hear in this room while that charm is active will be tied to a loyalty charm to you."

"What will happen?" Harry asked.

Hermione just smiled, "Let's just say, you'll know about it."  She looked most satisfied with herself and added, "I still want you to ask them to just sign their names to a list just like the one I used for the DA.  It won't do much other than act as a simple jinx that I am sure any one of them could break, but it might throw anyone off the track to look for something else.  Plus, it will tie in to the existing charm on the door."

Shortly thereafter, Moody ambled in through the door, followed by Remus.  Dumbledore arrived with Fawkes in tow, who landed on Harry's shoulder.  Harry settled down, still quite nervous, in a chair by the fire.  Lastly, Professors McGonagall and Snape hurried down the stairs and in the door.  McGonagall apologized for being a tad late and Snape looked surly as he threw himself into a chair at the far end of the table.  

Dumbledore cleared his throat to begin and Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry to get the signatures from everyone.  

"Er, can I say something quick?"  Harry asked.

Dumbledore turned to him and cocked his head to the side, "Certainly, Harry."

Harry stood and pulled out the piece of parchment Hermione had given him.  "Well, it's a simple matter, really.  Since this is a matter of trust and all, I thought the lease I might do is ask you all to pledge your willingness to keep what you hear here a secret." He held forth the parchment and Moody examined it carefully with his whirling eye.

Harry saw Snape sneer and say, "Is this one of Ms. Granger's special little jinxes?  Aren't we all a tad too old for spots such as Ms. Edgecombe was made to suffer?"

Harry was spared answering the Potions Master when McGonagall speared Snape with a look, "It really shouldn't matter Severus unless you plan to break the secrecy."  

"A jinx, eh?" Moody asked.  "I should tell you then, those can be quite easy to break once one knows what to look for."  Moody was eyeing Harry carefully.  

Harry snuck a look at Hermione, who nodded discreetly.  "Well, it's just a formality, really then."

Lupin didn't hesitate to sign the parchment and McGonagall followed him and then shoved the parchment and quill at Snape.  Snape hesitated for a brief moment, eyeing Harry and Hermione with contempt and scrawled his signature before Moody took it and added his own name to the list.  

"That's all then."  Harry took the parchment and then settled back into his chair and nodded to Dumbledore to begin.  

It took nearly two hours of Dumbledore's explaining and answering questions until everyone truly understood.  Harry had taken a sick pleasure in watching Snape squirm under scrutiny from Remus, McGonagall and Moody while Dumbledore explained that Snape had been the one Death Eater who overheard the prophecy and who offered forth the information he had in order to save his own life.  Harry could feel Snape shooting looks of hatred at him across the room for causing him to endure the scrutiny.  

Hermione had started to take copious notes throughout Dumbledore's explanations, but Lupin had helped her by bewitching the quill to just write down everything that was said.  

Harry, meanwhile, watched everyone with a detached interest as he listened to a lulling chorus of indistinct voices in his head.  He blocked out, as much as possible, everything that Dumbledore was saying; he had heard it all once before and was not eager to hear it all again.  Crookshanks had curled up on Harry's lap and Fawkes was snoozing on his chair back; both, along with the soothing voices, occupied the majority of Harry's attention for the night.  

Harry finally snapped back into reality when everyone rose from their seats and began to gather their things to leave.  Dumbledore leaned down to Harry and asked, "Was there anything else you wanted to add, Harry?"

Seeing as how he had basically mentally checked out for the past two hours, Harry just shook his head and stretched his arms before him.  Crookshanks leapt down from his lap and ran out the door that Snape had opened and left through without a second glance at Harry.  

Harry looked over at the table to see Hermione and Remus going over some of her notes.  He stood up from his chair and stretched again, only to open his eyes and see Professor McGonagall in front of him, wearing, for her, a very rare look of affection, but with a fierce determination.  

"I hope you do realize, Harry, that I am now more motivated than ever to train you harder than even before?" she asked with both sincerity and mock sternness.

Harry smiled at this and said, "I'm counting on that, Professor."  

Harry followed McGonagall up the stairs and into the Entry Hall, where they soon saw, Mr. Weasley, Ron and Ginny all milling about while Snape was being whispered to fiercely by Mrs. Weasley.  

Snape caught sight of Harry and McGonagall and arched an eyebrow as he proclaimed for all to hear, "I assure you Molly, it was nothing more than a small gathering set up to boost Potter's already-inflated ego."  

This set off Mrs. Weasley who turned then to see Harry, McGonagall, and also now Dumbledore and Moody coming up from the kitchen.  "What is going on here!?  As far as I understood, the inductions were not complete until the next meeting--"

She was cut off by the screeching sound of Mrs. Black's portrait, _"What FILTH still belies my home?!!  Scoundrels!! Be gone!!"_

Hermione then rushed past Harry to the portrait and pointed her wand at it and cried, "_Silencio_!"  

Harry heard Snape laugh and say, "And _her_ jinxing is supposed to ensure _your_ secrets, Potter?"

The portrait then screeched again viciously at Hermione, _"YOU--You filthy little twit!!  Scum of the earth and befoulment of my home!  Tramp!!"_

Harry could also hear Mrs. Weasley accosting Dumbledore about whatever clandestine meeting had been occurring this night and he felt his the clamor building around him.  

It was as the portrait screamed the insult at Hermione, _"MUDBLOOD FILTH AND WHORE!!"_ that he whipped out his wand and in a flash pointed it at the painting and snarled, _"REDUCTO!"_

The Entry Hall rang with silence then and the sound of crumbling plaster.  His curse had blasted a hole into the wall and the portrait was no longer.  He saw straight through the crumbling hole in the wall and into the dining room. 

Moody, with a gruff laugh broke the silence, saying, "No one ever thought to use a Reductor Curse on the damn thing?" 

Lupin was the one who answered, "No, we did," and with a short dry laugh of his own added, "It just never worked like that, before."  

Harry glared daggers at Snape and Mrs. Weasley just daring either of them to start a rant.  Mr. Weasley ushered Ron, Ginny and Molly up the stairs and out of the Hall quickly.  McGonagall gave Harry a curt nod and bid him goodbye until Thursday and then beckoned for Snape to hurry up.  

Snape merely passed Harry with a sneer in acknowledgement and then only Moody and Dumbledore were left to say farewell.  Harry hastened to leave the crumbling mess of plaster in the Hall and quickly bid them good night.  

He saw Remus and Hermione waiting for him by the stairs and he pleaded with them, "Not tonight, please.  Can we wait to talk tomorrow?"  They both seemed disappointed but Harry didn't care much.  He was getting sick and tired of dealing with Snape's attitude and with Mrs. Weasley's volatile temper tantrums.  

He felt them following him upstairs and he knew Hermione had stopped to watch him at her own door as Harry made his way to his room.  He turned back to her and felt the need to have her rise up in him stronger than ever before.  

She must have seen his eyes darken with desire for she checked to see that no one was watching and then went to him and met his eyes, not backing down.  He stepped aside and she walked in through the door before him.  He had barely shut and locked the door behind him before she had sat down on his bed looked demurely up at him.  

He didn't need to be urged on like this tonight and stalked forward, as if she were his prey and he were hungry for his next meal.  

Previous to this night, it had always been Hermione to push things further and further.  But this night, Harry was the aggressor and he took risks in moving their explorations further than they had before.   He was continually urged onward by the delicious sounds Hermione would make when he found just the right spots to kiss, lick, suck, fondle and rub.  

When he finally was able to remove her top, he couldn't fathom how he had ever not kissed her in all these new places, ever before.  It was all he could do not to push himself over the edge just by looking at her and holding her topless self to him.  

It was just lucky, then, the next morning that Hermione had already awoke and dressed when she heard a knock at the door.  She froze and saw Harry bolt awake and whisper, "It's Ron." He looked at Hermione and breathed a sigh of relief that she was dressed properly, all be it in yesterday's clothes.  "Can you disapparate into your room?"  

She bit her lip and he saw she doubted she could.  He summoned the invisibility cloak once again for her and she donned it quickly.  

"Come in," Harry called from his bed when he knew she was safely hidden away.

The door opened and Harry fumbled for his glasses just to see Ron standing in the hall and walk in. Harry thought he saw a blur of red rush past Ron and into the bathroom, but disregarded it when Ron asked suspiciously, "Have you seen Hermione?  Her bed wasn't slept in last night…"

Harry floundered for a moment trying to think up an excuse for this but soon saw the return of the red blur from the bathroom rush forth into his room.  

Ginny, dressed in her dressing gown and with damp hair from a shower, threw herself onto Harry's bed and sidled up to him as if she did it all the time.  "Course not.  Hermione slept in my bed last night."

Harry wasn't sure what the hell was going on but was encouraged to see that Ron seemed just as confused. "But," Ron said, "then where were you?"

Harry watched Ginny turn to him and grin impishly and say, "In here with Harry," and then she leaned in and grabbed Harry's head and kissed him full on the mouth.  

_Whoa.  What the…Whoa…that's not so bad…_  Harry was shocked yet again as he heard another voice from behind Ron.  
  


_"Virginia Weasley!!!"_  If Harry had thought he had ever seen Mrs. Weasley brassed off before, he was wrong--_this_ was her brassed off.  Bad.  _"What in the name of Merlin and Aphrodite, do you think you are doing, young woman?!?!?" _

She stalked into the room and dragged Ginny off the bed and screeched, "That's it!!  We are leaving!! I've had enough of this--Ronald you pack your bags and your sisters things too!! _We are going home!_  Young lady, you will follow me and listen to what I have to say!"  

Ron watched his mum drag his sister out of the room and down the hall and stared dumbly at Harry for a moment before stammering, "Well, I should…she's pretty hacked off…" Harry just nodded and Ron left, mumbling, "I gotta go."

He would have been completely surprised by Hermione ambushing him then if she hadn't snickered before she struck.  They spent a good portion of the morning imagining all the things they might now be able to do openly with the Weasleys gone from the house.  


	17. Chapter 20 Perspectives

A/N:  I've finally plotted it all out. …portkey'ers…rest easy.  Also--guess what-- the _italics_ are working!!! _Yay!!_

Chapter 20. Perspectives 

_I just knew Albus knew something like this.  I just never imagined it would be this!  That sly old dog…Merlin knows what else he knows that he keeps from all of us!  Although it does now explain why he insisted on sending poor Harry off to live with those muggles all those years ago… _

_And Harry!  No wonder he's been so willing to work so hard this summer!  And to think, I was worried about him bouncing back from his godfather's death in time to pull himself together to lead the quidditch team!_  

Minerva McGonagall threw off her traveling cloak as she entered her office back at Hogwarts.  She had just returned from the meeting at Order Headquarters and now, finally after losing her traveling companion, Professor Snape at the Entrance Hall, was able to concentrate on her own thoughts rather then his constant, irate grumblings.

_And to think—Severus…  I never knew… all these years.  And Sibyll!  Merlin!  Well, at least I now know why Albus has insisted on keeping those two around.  And why is Albus doing this now?  Potter must have insisted on joining the Order after he found out the prophecy… I don't blame him a bit—but if Albus knew this would happen now…  There is just no pinning that man!_

She pulled out several books from the shelves behind her desk and then tapped her wand on the calendar on the wall. 

_Well, I promised Potter I'd help him be an Auror if it was the last thing I'd do and I'm still bound to that—now it also means making sure he can survive that long.  No wonder Albus was calling this training 'Life Preservation Skills'!  All right, let's see what I can add to this training for him…he definitely has power enough, but what would he need for me to be willing to follow him?  Would I?  He's brave and courageous to a fault—the consummate Gryffindor.  He's loyal enough and even very resourceful and quite intelligent—but… he can be reckless, and may lack forethought…he needs better strategizing skills—maybe it is a good thing I named him quidditch captain after all._

She set about mapping out a plan to strengthen his faults and weaknesses and to help him to best utilize his strengths.  She was not about to let him down nor lose the one and only chance they had at finally defeating You-Know-Who. _Not to mention the Slytherin Quidditch team._

*          *            *            *            *            *            *

'Her-_mione!" Harry nearly squealed._

Through giggles, Hermione spat out, "Apparently the Boy Who Lived, is also the Boy Who is Quite Ticklish—best hope Voldemort doesn't glean _that and use it against you!"  _

She dove in again to go for his ribs and Harry meeped and flew off the side of the bed, landing with a _"thwump!"_

"Is everything all right in here—Hermione?  Where is Harry?"  

Harry groaned from his spot on the floor on the other side of the bed in response to Remus.  He slowly moved to a kneeling position and peeked over the top of the bed.

"Er, Harry, is there a reason your groaning on the floor over there?  Does this have anything to do with why Molly stormed out of here a while ago with the kids?"

Hermione, still giggling, threw the invisibility cloak at Harry, who was acutely aware now that all he was wearing were his boxers.  He wrapped the cloak around his body, leaving only a disembodied head to float in the air as he stood up.  

"Er, are they gone then?"  Harry wasn't quite sure he wanted to know what Mrs. Weasley had told Remus and asked with some trepidation, "Did she say anything?"

But Lupin never got to answer because Moody limped to the doorway, "Lupin—are you ready to go finally?  I can't believe Molly, I had to memory charm three muggles in the street that saw her come out of a non-existent doorway when she left the house," he stopped abruptly and both of his eyes trained on Harry's invisible body,"—what in the name of Merlin are wearing under that thing, Potter?"

Harry felt himself flush red as he recalled Moody's ability to see through invisibility cloaks.  

Harry stammered and then remembered it was his room after all, "Er, well, if _people would leave me alone for just a few minutes,' he shot a glare at Hermione, "then perhaps I could get properly dressed, already!"  _

Hermione's eyes were shining with laughter and Harry could see her fighting back another bout of giggles and tears.  "Don't even say it," he threatened her, "or else I'll hex you."

"You got your wand pointed at me then under there?" she asked impishly.

"I might," he hedged.  He didn't have anything, including trousers, much less his wand. (The _real wand, you dirty-minded scoundrels.)_

She struggled to maintain a straight face and say, "Funny, I seem to see your wand over on the nightstand," and then sniggered and dodged the pillow he tossed at her as she left the room.

Harry glared at the door where she had left and then turned back to see Moody and Lupin watching him.  He pulled the invisibility cloak around him tighter (as if it might make a difference) and asked, "What?"

Lupin just answered airily, "And to think, I was trying to prepare a So-You've-Got-to-Save-the-World talk when all you really seem to need is," his voice dropped a few octaves and one eyebrow raised, "The-Talk."

"Harry, hurry it up," said Hermione as she tapped her foot impatiently in the doorway.  

"Why are we in such a hurry anyway?  Tonks isn't coming over until afternoon," said Harry as he futilely tried to flatten his hair.  He sighed and gave up, settling for the just-lost-a-pillow-fight look (he had, after all, in fact just lost a pillow fight).

"Honestly, Harry!" he heard her roll her eyes.  "Don't you remember the plans we all made last night?"

"Er…" _Uh-oh_.  "No?"  He heard her sigh exasperatedly.  "But I saw you taking notes—just tell me."

Hermione stooped and wheeled about on her heel and stared at Harry, "Harry Potter!  You mean to tell me you paid absolutely no attention at all to absolutely nothing last night?"

"Er, well no, I paid attention to some things…like Crookshanks had this mat in his fur and I…" he trailed off as her stare turned into a glare. "Sorry," he mumbled. 

Harry saw Hermione pull herself up in preparation of one of her rants.  But before she could start, Harry said, "Listen, wait—I just didn't want to have to hear everything all again.  I heard it before and that was enough.  It was overwhelming enough to hear it all when I did—much less to have to watch and listen to the lot of you try to believe it and understand it.  I've had little else to fill my mind for most of this summer, _but that damned prophecy."  He sighed and said, "Besides, I knew you'd be the one I could count on to tell me anything and everything I've missed.  It's one of the reasons I chose you—I knew I could count on you."_

He saw her face soften considerably at this.  "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry.  I didn't mean—"

Harry waved her apology away and grinned, "Forget it.  Now just tell me what went on and what's now going on."

"Well," they finally started to walk again to go down to breakfast, "McGonagall and Moody both agreed they would up your training to at least twice a week with each of them.  Professor McGonagall is coming here today at eleven—that's why we need to hurry up—we've only an hour to eat. 

"Moody is treating you like the prize asset now and wanted to go to Hogwarts and begin checking out the current security at Hogwarts and around Gryffindor Tower—we just saw him and Remus leave to go.  He took Remus with because of his extensive knowledge of the castle and grounds."

"Wait up then," Harry dashed back into his room, rummaged through his trunk and pulled out the Marauders Map. "Here Hedwig," he called his owl over from her perch and tied the rolled up map to her leg.  "Take this to Remus Lupin—he shouldn't have gotten too far," and he sent her out the window and into London.

"Good thinking, Harry," said Hermione from the doorway.

They headed again out and down for breakfast.  "So," continued Hermione, "everyone seemed a little skeptical at first last night.  When Dumbledore first off just showed us the pensieve of the prophecy—did he show you that, too?  With Trelawney?  Amazing, really—and she doesn't even know she gave it!  No wonder he wanted to keep her around Hogwarts all this time.  

"I think Moody and McGonagall suspected Dumbledore knew something—I think Remus was most shocked.  But—oh—Snape! Oh my god, Harry!  I've never seen him so pale as when he realized that Dumbledore was going to tell everyone what he had done!  I can't believe it!! He must really be a superb Occlumens!"  Harry shot her an incredulously annoyed look at this.  "What?  It's true!  Oh, you should have seen him glaring daggers at you, Harry!"

"Like that's new?"

"Like this it was—it only grew worse and worse as the night went on—it's probably a good thing you didn't notice, really."

"Whatever, he's always hated me and I'm sure he always will.  Bastard," Harry grumbled.

"Harry!  If you think about it, I can kind of see why he might resent you even more now—"

"What?  Why—give me one good reason why—"

"Harry!  Because look what he has to do now!  He is back in the same situation he was last time—he knows the secret Voldemort wants and he has to keep it from him.  It's probably even worse now though, I imagine he has to be closer to him more often now with there only being a few Death Eaters out there now and he's probably constantly testing Snape's loyalty.  Snape will have to create and maintain an alternate reality to present to Voldemort to deceive him from knowing what he knows.  From what I've read in the book that Dumbledore gave to you, having to maintain and put forth deceptions like that can be very draining and even test one's sanity!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not about to feel sorry for him."

"But Harry—"

"Just forget it!"  Harry stayed standing even as Hermione sat at the kitchen table, "If Snape would have just kept it to himself all those years ago—my parents would still be alive, I wouldn't have this bloody scar and _he_ wouldn't be the damn potions master who makes my life hell!"

Hermione countered weakly, "But it only worked to fulfill the prophecy to an extent."

Harry threw himself into a chair, "I don't care.  There could have been other ways for it to have been fulfilled."  Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts as food was placed before them.  "What else?"  

"Well, Dumbledore explained how he knew you would be chosen as the new Lead Light," Harry's head perked up at this.  "He told us how the sword belongs to the Lead Light, whomever it is, and that you actually were chosen when you first pulled it out years ago in the Chamber of Secrets.  He said he had only seen the sword previously at his own induction when he was named the Lead and that he knew as soon it left him in our second year and went to your aid, that you would be the next chosen."

Harry was listening raptly, "He never told me that."

Hermione rolled her eyes yet again, "He did last night, Harry.  You just weren't listening."

Harry ate ravenously and listened to Hermione ramble on, commenting about everyone's reactions and on several points she found interesting about the previous night's meeting.  

"Hermione," Harry broke in when she finally paused to eat, "what about you? What do you think about it all?"

She looked, wide-eyed, at him for a moment and shifted, but never got to answer when they heard Professor McGonagall come in through the kitchen door.

*          *            *            *            *

_He's our weapon.  The only weapon we can hope to have. It's up to us to train this weapon and hone it so it can be used effectively_.  

_He's just a kid!  Wide-eyed, brash and still young and in denial of his own mortality, he is.  Then again, he is the Boy Who Lived—I guess if anyone should have reason to be in denial of his mortality—it's him_.  

_'Either must die at the hand of the other.'  Does that mean the victor becomes immortal?  Is it even possible for someone **else** to kill the boy?  Let's hope we don't find out…but still…I wonder…_

Moody trudged along from the Practice Hall where he, Lupin, Shacklebolt and Tonks had been giving Potter and his girl, Granger, one hell of a workout.  

_She's not too bad of a witch…they work well together and would make excellent partners as Aurors.  Then again, Potter tried to protect her when he should have stuck with his primary objectives of his own defense.  That's why you never get involved with a partner…it's obvious there's something between those two.  I wonder what Albus is thinking to have them living so close this summer like that…reckon he figures if Potter has to take on the responsibilities of adulthood and beyond, then he should get some of the benefits, too…well…last thing he needs is more burdens, they'd better know what they're doing.  I ought to tell Minerva to make sure they have proper education on these things…they are both in her house, after all_.

The weathered ex-auror chose a seat next to Minerva McGonagall and waved her near for a private conversation, before the start of the first regular, weekly Order meeting since the previous week's inductions.

*          *            *            *            *

Remus Lupin shifted in his seat as Albus Dumbledore called the meeting to order.  He had been working with Harry even more vigorously this past week than he had the rest of the summer.  He knew that if Harry had one weakness as a leader, in his eyes, it was his tendency to lose confidence in himself as others expressed their doubts in him.  Lupin knew tonight might be difficult for Harry to hear others protesting their beliefs in his abilities.  He was determined to make sure that everyone would leave here tonight open to the idea that Harry would soon, not only be a capable leader, but the best leader they could hope to have; and most importantly of the people he had to make sure knew this, was Harry himself.  

_He's definitely not like James in that aspect.  James would take the role of leader whether he was offered it or not.  If I remember correctly, I seem to recall he—and Sirius—took over plenty of meetings back in our day…  Harry's more like Lily in that way: he only really gets defensive if you insult him or his friends and then—well, then you'd better watch out_.  

_After they got together, if one of us took the mick to James, she would have had her wand ready to hex us—and we were his friends!  After she finally stopped detesting him, they were so in love…***fiercely*** in love.  _

The sound of Dumbledore's voice cut off Lupin's reverie, "The first order of business tonight is to settle the matter we left off with last week: the matter of the acceptance of the newly inducted and chosen Lead Light."

Lupin could see that nearly every single member—nay—_every_ member of the Order of the Phoenix was present tonight.  He saw even Hagrid, Aberforth Dumbledore, and both Bill and Charlie Weasley crowding into the kitchen of Grimmauld Place.  He also saw Harry noticing the full room as Tonks playfully pulled on a lock of his messy hair that was even more rumpled after their late afternoon workout.  

"There really is no procedure for us to follow," Dumbledore went on and nodded to Harry, "the Lead has been chosen and the light is now in him.  There is no voting or choice to accept or decline this change that any members can now try to exercise."  Lupin saw Dumbledore look pointedly at Molly.  "However, it is essential, for the best interests of the Order and our goals, to settle this matter expediently and with a majority.  

"The worst mistake we could make at this point in time is to not gather and express support for this change.  It is inevitable, that I may not always be around.  I am, after all, an old man," Dumbledore smiled benignly and Lupin was amazed that the thought that Albus Dumbledore may not always be around, had never before occurred to him.  "It would be most detrimental to the functioning of the Order to not have a clearly chosen and supported leader to assume this role in my absence.  It is for the future, that this matter should now be put to rest."

Lupin could see many people nodding in belief that the actual change of Leads would not be happening nor functional occur now, but in the future.  It was true enough, but not the whole truth.  _Being in on one of Albus's secrets and then watching him spin half-truths and rhetoric, is sure an enlightening experience.  _

"There are many of you here tonight who missed last week's event.  I rest quite assured anyone who missed it, has now heard about it detail from at least one other person—so I will not recap that now.  As you are all aware, I am sure, I stand to support the selection that was made and I move to have all grievances against Harry Potter as the named successor to the role of Lead Light of the Order of the Phoenix, be aired and put to rest tonight.  There was also, as we discussed last week, a group of individuals whom Harry selected, to take into his confidence on certain matters concerning his appropriateness for this role. Since last week, these individuals, Harry, and myself have all met and you will now be hearing from each of these members as they offer their advice to you.  Alastor?  If you may…" Dumbledore took a seat next to Harry, in front of Lupin.   

Lupin's exceptional hearing allowed him to hear Tonks lean in to Harry and say, "You know, the reason everyone thinks Albus makes such a good Lead Light is because he has that bright white hair.  If we just dyed your hair a bit—maybe platinum blond—then you'd be Light material…"

He saw Harry turn to her with an incredulous look and whisper indignantly, "Do I look like a Malfoy?!"  Remus chuckled quietly to himself.

"What I want to know," Moody boomed out, catching the attention of everyone in the room as he switched to a low whisper, "who here needs to be convinced, eh?  I don't play the little game Albus will here—I want to know who here would hesitate to follow the—well, Potter…eh?  Raise your hand now!  Don't just sit back and be skeptical!  Who?"  Remus glanced around and could smell the fear in those who felt they would hesitate, but were too scared to say anything about it to old Moody.  "Argh!  I said those who _would_ hesitate—not those who wouldn't follow him at all!!  I just want to know why it is you'd hesitate—what are your reservations—I'll then tell why each one can be thrown out!"  

_Leave it to Moody to put it all out in the open.  "Come on Molly, we all know you were against this last week—why?"  Lupin knew he was sure glad that Moody was going after her now.  _Better him than me.__

Molly Weasley flitted from looking startled and uncomfortable to be put on the spot like this, then she drew herself up straight and stood up.  "Well, Harry dear," she smiled at Harry and Lupin saw him give her a tentative, pained smile in return, "I don't doubt you would be willing to do this nor do I even doubt, dear, that you could.  My hesitations, Alastor, thank you for remembering me, are because I am not sure if he _should do this-- whether _we_ should do this.  Whether he has to actually do anything now or ten years from now is not the issue—he would still have to live with knowing he must so this.  He should not be given these added burdens when we can help prevent them.  Children are growing up far too fast these days and I am beginning to wonder just who all has Harry's best interests in mind."  She looked defiantly at Moody, Dumbledore and then around the room to see who might support her.  She locked eyes with Remus and he knew she was challenging him on her last comment.  _

"Well," Moody growled, "good then.  'Cuz whether he _should_ really isn't the issue, now is it.  The Order has made its decision and 'should' is no longer an argument.  Now who's got an argument based upon 'could'?"  Moody trained his swiveling eye around the room looking for anyone to voice their opinions.

"Alastor, I'll say perhaps what I would be saying if I had not been working the past few weeks with Harry," Remus turned to see Kingsley stand up from the chair beside him in order to speak.  "Most of you know I was one person who volunteered to help in providing training to Harry this summer.  I know if I had never seen someone wave a wand or behave under pressure and get a chance to know his character, then I would hesitate to have that person be my leader in anything.  

"But I can say, that after having been working with Harry, that he's not what you'd expect a wizard his age to be.  He surprised me the first day I worked with him and he's been making so much progress each week that I never know what to expect of him next.  He's getting to be a fair match to me now at dueling and I'd bet he could not only hold his own against nearly anyone here but whip more than half of you, if he tried. He's nearly got many of the skills and physical requirements met or in the works to pass Auror qualifications.  He's more fit and capable to fight than the majority in this room.  I'll support him.  And anyone whom I bring in to join from the MLES will support him as well.  

"They're all in awe that he was at the Ministry, fighting on the night of the captures.  They've already been talking about the Ministry making a show of recruiting him now to demonstrate that they'll get the best to head up and help the Ministry's defense against the Death Eaters."  Kingsley sat down and Lupin looked at him and nodded in appreciation.  

"Excellent points, Kingsley!  Now what else?"  Moody looked about the room.  "No one? Well, he just took half of my speech but I'll say this: half the lot of us are old.  That's right—admit it.  We are.  The Order was working for over ten years last time and who knows how long this next war will take.  We're going to need a lot of fresh blood in here soon.  It's only a matter of time before the dark side starts building up its forces.  And those people we do bring in to help us and fight with us—they all know who Harry Potter is.  They've read the papers now and know he was the first one to see the Dark Lord rise again and that he was there the night he and his followers broke into the Ministry.  They know he was there when a dozen followers were locked up.  They think he's the one to lead the fight.  That's the general public's view, and they're not at all wrong.  We are the fight here—this Order and we're working like hell to make him a man who's physically capable of besting any one of us.  He's physically and politically positioned to take on this role and be the best one for the job."  Moody stood for a just a moment longer before thumping his way back to his seat next to McGonagall who was now rising and striding to the spot beside the door to speak.

"Thank you, Alastor.  I cannot argue with any of what has been said by Kingsley nor Alastor," in a lower voice she grumbled, "Although I might say were not all bloody ancient."  She gave a stern look to Moody and went on, "Mr. Potter has been my student for the past five years and I should say I can also a test to his upstanding moral and ethical standards."  Lupin saw her meet Harry's surprised face for a moment and then add, "I'm not talking about when you slugged Mr. Malfoy, Potter."  She arched an eyebrow and said, "Nor when you snuck out of bed, nor used a time—nevermind… all right, I never said you were one for following rules.  But really, that's a true test of one's character: you've proven your moral compass is true enough to lead you through rules when you must get the job done."  She paused a moment and Remus knew he was personally, quite shocked to hear stern Professor McGonagall extolling the virtues of one her students tendencies to break rules.  _Prongs would be so proud right now_.   He thought he even saw Harry straighten in front of him with some pride.  _Like father, like son_.  

"If it weren't for Harry breaking his rules and following his instincts, then it might have been 5 years ago that this Order was called to reconvene, then Ginny Weasley may surely not be alive today and Hogwarts might still be closed, or perhaps Sirius Black would have died a few years ago and we surely wouldn't all be seated here in _this_ kitchen tonight.  He's the reason we knew when to reconvene and he's a good part of the reason that were not the only ones now who believe there is a war to be fought.  Not to mention, the reason I am not in the market for a new job for fear of returning to work for a tyrannical, incompetent sycophant.  But besides that, I think it's abundantly clear that Harry has already been in the lead, with us just following."  She looked around, held her head high and then strode back to her seat.  

Remus looked over at Snape, sneering his usual sneer and radiating his usual cheeriness.  He gave Lupin no signal to go before him, but Remus knew the fact that Snape had not just strode up to speak was the only indication he would get that he should go next.  He rose and walked around to the spot from where everyone had been speaking.  

"Well, I was thinking we might be hearing all kinds of reasons why Harry would _not make a god Lead.  I couldn't think of too many myself but I guess I'm relived to see no one else seems to be coming up with any either."  Remus was seeking to maintain eye contact with Harry so he might see how sincere he felt, however, Harry had looked down and seemed to be studying his shoes as soon as Remus began to talk. _

"After listening to Alastor and Minerva speak tonight, I think I can also say much of what's already been said.  I can also say that if you're not as sure as we are, then you just don't know Harry like we do."  Harry was still studying his shoes and Remus figured all the praise being heaped upon him was just embarrassing him.  "The purpose of selecting and identifying a new Lead before he is required to take the role, such as Harry here, will serve to give the rest of you time, who don't know him that well, to get to know him.  Trust and respect are earned and the edict of a hat, no matter how notorious will never give you the assurance your own heart can.  Time and proximity will give you all the opportunity to allow Harry to earn your trust and respect equal to a level of our Lead.  Of this, I have no doubts."  Remus saw several nodding with this as acceptable and he turned to Snape and gestured for him to finally take the floor, before he walked back around to his seat.  

When Remus sat down he saw that Snape had not moved to take the floor but was still leaning against the pantry wall, with his arms crossed and sneering as always.  Several people turned to look at the surly spy.  

He never moved from his spot but spoke with as much contempt and loathing as he ever did, when the subject was Harry Potter.  "Yes, Potter has never been one to back down from a fight, hesitate to hex one who's wronged him, be stopped by silly things like _rules_ nor _common sense,_ even."  

Remus turned back to watch Harry from behind; he could see Harry still leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and staring down at his feet but with a notably stiffer posture than before.  

"None of that matters," Snape's voice was a deadly whisper.  Remus knew he loved to try to intimidate anyone he could with his voice; it was a trick he tried to use not only on students.  "I can assure you all that Potter will remain a target of the Dark Lord's until he is _dead_.  He doesn't need to lead any fight nor war; the war will lead to him."  Silence fell and Snape gave a poignant smug sneer to Harry, who had turned and was now glaring daggers back at Snape.  _Succinct, to the point and as scathing as can be—not bad considering the source.   _

Dumbledore rose up to break the silence and said, "Well then, does anyone have anything else to add?"

 A voice clearing his throat caught Remus' attention and he turned to see Bill Weasley, looking tentative but still wishing to speak, "Er, I have something to add, I think.  You all know we—well, I've been going round and round with the Goblins trying to get them to commit to a side or at least to commit to not turning against us…well, er there's been some progress there."  This was huge news.  The Goblins were an incredible ally if one could sway them to help.  It usually involved large sums of money to sway a goblin to do anything, but if they could get them to take a position to help cut off funds to known Death Eater's and their accounts, that would severely limit Voldemort's resources.

Remus saw Dumbledore hold up a hand and say, "We can move on to new business in just a moment William, I want to make sure our first matter is put to rest."

"Well, that's just it sir, this is about Harry."  Harry whipped his head around and stared at Bill.  "Whatever it was that you did last week, Harry, when you were at Gringotts… they now will talk with us.  But on one condition—they want Harry's word on any deals we make with them."  

"Excellent," Dumbledore beamed.  _What?  What just happened?  What…???_ "Well, may I now make a motion that all members present, and we all nearly are here, pledge acceptance and support to the newly chosen Lead Light?

"Seconded," chorused Moody and McGonagall.  

"All in favor?" Dumbledore queried.

"Aye!" was the resounding chorus throughout the room, with Hagrid's voice being heard above all the rest.  

*          *            *            *            *            *

Harry felt a wave of relief wash over him at the resounding sound of _Aye's _in the room_.  _

"Opposed?"  Harry closed his eyes and heard not a sound.  "Excellent!" Dumbledore said.

Harry exhaled again and opened his eyes.  He blinked a few times and focused on Dumbledore standing in front of him and facing everyone.  

"Now, for some real business…"  

The meeting finally got going as several people made updates.  The first was Bill, who was asked for any more details on the Goblins and their intentions.  "Well, they haven't said much.  Just asked if Harry was part of the group I was working for and when I finally admitted he was, they conferred for a few minutes and then declared they would only negotiate with him there and if they had his word on any deals we strike."  

Harry wasn't sure whether this was good news or bad.  Perhaps he had actually done something right that had ingratiated himself with the goblins.  Or, perhaps, they knew he was so gormless as to trust them with his vault-full of gold that they thought he was an easy one of which to take advantage.  Either way, he agreed to make a trip into Diagon Alley to meet with Bill and a few goblin representatives as soon as it was set up.  

Bill, on behalf of Fleur, and Charlie made statements assuring the situation in concealing and imprisoning the captured Death Eaters was well under control.  Harry wondered where exactly they were all being kept and also wondered how and why Charlie and Fleur would be involved with this.  It seemed, however, that the update given by Bill and Charlie was innocuous and many others seemed to not know the real details of which they spoke.  

Emmeline Vance reported that she had hedged on making a decision about the Ministry's dealing with the Hogwarts Express this year and had been hoping to receive guidance from tonight's meeting.  She said the issue was even more pressing now that one home of a muggle-born student had been attacked.  Mr. Weasley commented that he had thought they had reached a solution on this and reiterated Harry's suggestion, which was widely agreed upon as the best course of action.  Emmeline said she would run the committee to send notifications and queries to the students and their parents about selecting optional alternative transport, personally, as soon as she returned to the Ministry.  

Kingsley updated everyone on the MLES perspective.  He said he had had to hold off his boss, Amelia Bones, yet again in questions about his pursuit of the fugitive Sirius Black.  "I assured her that I can confirm that Black was not a threat to society at the present time and that I was working towards producing evidence to support the Ministry's efforts to make public showings of 'making a difference'."  Harry knew the ruse to have Kingsley still appear to be searching for Sirius meant he would have more time to devote to the Order.  Part of him hated that his godfather's name was still known as an escaped convict.  

"Excuse me," Hermione asked, "would the Ministry even accept the true story of what happened to him?  There is no body to speak of…perhaps this has already been discussed?"

"Well that's one thing, Hermione," Kingsley answered, "they wouldn't be able to declare him dead nor captured without a body.  However, I did overhear something interesting this week-- I heard one of the undersecretaries talking to Amelia about the Ministry's budget being stressed and there is pressure being put on the MLES to drop the reward amount for Black.  As I'm sure you've noticed, there hasn't been any mention of the rewards being paid out for the escapees captured recently-- there're problems with cash flow in the Ministry-- or lack thereof, it seems.  Strictly, unofficial and merely overheard, mind you." 

Dumbledore spoke, "We've been playing this out to allow you time, Kingsley, to feel out your fellow coworkers and which of them may be suitable additions to our ranks.  I believe you spoke last week saying you already a few in mind?" 

"Yes, Albus, I do.  I'd even recommend Amelia herself."

"Well, perhaps it is time you had a talk with her.  I also believe she may be a fine addition to the Order. Let me know if you would like some support with this, Kingsley."  

Kingsley nodded, "Well, and as I said before, the push is desperate to put forth the appearance of MLES mobilization.  The Prophet has been flaying Fudge daily and he's pushing, like Emmeline said, to make the public feel like we're moving and taking actions to protect them.  Which, of course, there's little to be done without the exact location of the last few Death Eaters and You-Know-Who himself."  Harry snuck a glance at Snape, who surely had to know this.  

"Hmm, yes," Dumbledore said.  "We'll talk a bit later, I may have some ideas. Severus?  Have you had any intelligence on the whereabouts of the Dementors?"

Snape straightening up at this, "None. He is trusting nearly no one with everything."  

Dumbledore looked troubled at this, "That remains one of your top priorities.  New business anyone?"

"Aye!" Moody called.  "Lupin and myself have taken up assessing the current security and wards at the school.  We began earlier this week and have quite a few improvements we might like to suggest.  We may want some volunteers familiar with the castle and grounds to help us for a few days.  Anyone interested?"  

"We'll do it!"  The twins chorused enthusiastically.

"No one knows the castle and grounds as well as we do!"

"No one--'cept maybe Moony, et al."

Harry saw McGonagall giving the twins a dubious look but then she said, "Indeed, if anyone knew more ways about since--well, that sounds tailored for you Misters Weasley."

"Brilliant."  The twins looked enthused to have their first assignment.  Harry smirked at them and then back at Remus.  "Hey Harry," one called out, "can we use the you-know-what?"

Harry smirked even more now and just nodded, chuckling to himself.  

The rest of the meeting flew by in a blur.  There was an inquiry about who the new DADA professor would be at Hogwarts but Dumbledore just smiled and refused to comment.  Several others just began gossiping about the rumors that were flying about this and that.  It informally broke up after about an hour and a half.  Hermione, who had had her bewitched quill working furiously throughout the meeting, gathered up her notes and Harry helped her collect them.  

The twins came over and one asked, "Harry, the map?  You still got it, right?"

"Ooh-- we'll have to make sure and stop by and say hello to Filchy boy," the other half said with glee.

Harry laughed and gathered the last of Hermione's notes in his arms and said, "Actually, you're going to have to ask Moony for it."  He pointed with a look to just behind the twins as he had seen Lupin come up behind them.  With that, Harry left them alone and headed up stairs for bed, after a long day.  

*          *            *            *            *

_August 11_

_It's been the most exhausting week of my life.  I swear I haven't stopped but to sleep since McGonagall arrived Tuesday with her new improved, no-room-for-rest training regimen. I barely have time to think my thoughts, much less do anything else.  Hence this journal now actually being used as a journal.  If I try to just sit and think, then Hermione thinks I'm depressed or something and insists on talking about something or takes to cheering me up.  Okay, I really don't mind that part—it's the only time I don't just want to fall asleep during the day.  _

_She's sitting there right now, next to me on the sofa here and reading.  She thinks I'm working on my Occlumency stuff—which I guess I am.  She still hasn't given me any reaction to hearing the prophecy and all.  I think it might actually be best.  If I even think about her knowing it, then *that* feeling swells up inside.  I think she might know that or suspect, at least.  It's the reason I couldn't listen and watch as Dumbledore told the story again last week—I knew I'd get all—well, let's say "emotionally overwhelmed", shall we? Gah! Not to mention at the meting and having to sit there while they all played 'What's not to like about Harry?'  Amazing how Snape can find a way to berate, insult and yet, support me all at the same time.  Got to admit the bastard has some talent.  _

_I haven't even had a chance to miss Ron being here, I've been so busy.  I can't say I don't mind not having to worry about someone knocking on the door in the morning to find us together.  Nah—now I have to get up by eight o'clock every damn day.  I'd never manage it if it weren't for Hermione taking quite seriously the role of my alarm clock.  I'm sure Remus knows.  I know he knows we're--*doing things*--or at least something.  I imagine he even knows that she slips out of her room every night and into mine still. I think that's one of the reasons even he has taken to working both of us so hard—he wants to make sure we are too exhausted to do anything but sleep. But (ha!) it's the full moon tonight and he left yesterday afternoon to a safe house and won't be back until tomorrow evening.  Moody was here last night working with us until nearly eleven at night.  I swear I could feel him watching with that damn eye even after he claimed to have left. Now, today, Tonks had to leave early and it's just the two of us until tomorrow.  _

_Wow, this is actually helping me sort out like the million thoughts in my head.  Basically, the one that keeps running about and won't let me concentrate on anything else is the thought of being in the house alone tonight.  With her. This is mad.  I'm mad.  Completely, one hundred percent nutters.  I've got the Dark Lord of the century after me, a prophecy declaring I'm the only one who can stop him, and all I can think about is if I can get her shirt off again.  Yup, definitely the thought of the day for me.  She's looking at me—I can feel it.  _

_I swear she can read my mind sometimes—like just now, she looks at me with that questioning, innocent look and just seems to know I was thinking some randy thought about her. Definitely need to find a privacy charm for this book—I'll have to ask what she used on the parchments sheets of notes she took on the prophecy and the meetings.  I know those are charmed so only she can see them—even I can't see them.  _

"Harry, have you heard from Ron or Ginny since they left?"  Harry shook his head.  

"Hmm, well, maybe their mum is not letting them send us any post.  We should get Ginny a gift for covering for us.  I imagine she got quite the lecture from her mum."

"Hmm," Harry said.

_I'll wait and see how big a gift a get her when I find out just how thankful I am.  Damn, I am randy today.  Maybe I should just excuse myself and go take a quick shower so I can actually focus on something other than her.  Maybe she would shower with me_…

_Okay, so if I ever need to put forth deceptive images through Occlumency, I have a large store of conjured images of her showering.  Yup, I need to excuse myself.  Best be careful when I leave, lest I poke out a house-elf's eye on the way out_.  

"I'm heading to take a bath before dinner," Harry said and then carefully closed his journal and gingerly rose from the sofa, with his journal strategically placed before him.  He saw Hermione nod and then felt her watching him as he walked out of the drawing room to go upstairs.  

_Figures, I finally could have found Dudley's old baggy pants useful, and now they're gone_.  

*          *            *            *            *

A/N:  Did you know…that when you are trying to read a newly posted chapter on ff.net and you get an error message saying, "chapter does not exist", that there is a trick to getting the chapter to display?  In the web address bar, where it says, "…&chapter=7" (an example for chapter 7 of a fic) just retype the end to say "…&chapter=7/6".  You want to prompt the link from the previous chapter to the newly uploaded one. I love this trick!!  


	18. Chapter 21 Moving Pictures

Chapter 21. Moving Pictures 

            Harry paused in his step as he came to the drawing room doorway.  His bath had definitely let out some, er, _stress.  He felt much more refreshed, awake and well, rather hungry right now.  It was quarter past seven, after all.  _

The sight of Hermione, her head bent and reading whatever voluminous tome she was likely reading tonight, and twirling around her finger a stray ringlet of her hair that had escaped the knot she must have recently tied it up in, made Harry stop.  

One of the more difficult things he was having problems getting his head around was trying to reconcile the brilliant-always-studying-best-friend-for-the-past-five-years Hermione and the one that slipped under his covers each night to curl up against him and who seemed to have a knack to drive Harry crazy (in an absolutely brilliant way, of course).

But there were these moments now -- they would be doing just ordinary things like eating breakfast perhaps, or working on their holiday homework, or training on their magic – when Harry would suddenly find himself caught up to see a look on her face, the sway in her walk, or the graceful curve of her neck.  It was the latter that he was now eyeing with much more than just an artistic appreciation.  

He snuck up until he was only a step behind the sofa, upon which she was reading.  He licked his lips, unconsciously and moved his hands to her shoulders as he leaned in close behind her, nuzzling up that graceful curve as he finally reached her ear to whisper, "Are you hungry?"  

He felt her tense and shiver at his touch.  His lips lingered on the skin of her ear lobe and he smiled as he saw her eyes softly flutter closed.  He then saw a movement out of the corner of his eye in her lap; a moving picture in a book Hermione was reading?  Pictures?  Book?  This was not right.  

The book was slapped shut, cover facing down in her lap as she had noticed his distraction.  

Harry kept his hands on her shoulders and had a feeling she was not keen on letting him see whatever she was reading.  He began to ever so gently rub her shoulders as he straightened up a bit.  He watched her face closely as she turned back to him.  He could see her mind work as she looked innocently up at him.

"So," he raised one eyebrow in mock interrogation, "watchya reading?"

A furtive look flashed across her face for but a second before she said, "It's my journal.  Private journal."

"With pictures?  You draw?  _Moving_ pictures?"  Harry wasn't buying this at all.

Again, that secretive look that told him she was definitely hiding something flashed before she adopted a determined look and asked, "So, Harry, how was your shower?  Long enough?  You didn't run out of hot water, did you, and then have to suffer through a _cold_ shower, hmm?"

_Oh, touché_.  Harry was about to let the subject drop for the sake of maintaining some of his dignity, but when the sight of another moving picture on the back of the book, still clutched in her lap, caught his eye, he changed tactics.  Hermione was still eyeing him defiantly and he thought he'd call her bluff.  If he wasn't mistaken, that picture looked to be somewhere just east of indecent.  He held her look, lowered his chin and countered in a low, suggestive voice, "I'll tell you all about my shower if you show me your book."  

A small thrill ran though him at being able to astonish her in that brief moment.  It was the look he imagined she might be making when they were in bed together and he might have just dared move his hand a little further than he had ever before.  One thing about them nearly always being in bed, under covers, at night when they explored each other, it meant that Harry had to imagine the looks on her face and the sights that he could only guess from her sounds and how she felt to his hands.  

"Okay, you first."  

Er, he didn't expect her to say that.  _Bugger.  "It was wet."  He allowed himself a smirk.  _

She merely tilted her head gave a look that said he had better offer more than that.  

That graceful curve of her neck caught his eye again and he leaned closer to her ear, letting his mouth brush against her ear again as he went on, "I was completely … _naked."  He searched over her shoulder as he nuzzled in to her neck.  He saw the picture on the back of the book clearly now as she leaned back into him.  _

"Go on," she breathed.

"I was … _imagining things…" he kissed her neck once, then twice, "however," another kiss, "if I had seen this one," *__kiss* "particular," *__kiss* "__thing," a kiss trailing back around her neck and to the other side, "then my _imagining_, may have been," he laughed," well, a bit unnecessary."  He sucked on a small spot where her neck and her shoulder met and she sighed against him.  _

The moving picture on the book, now seeming to be completely forgotten by Hermione, was most definitely holding Harry's attention and making him more than a little aroused to think that this was something Hermione was reading—or, er, _looking at, at least.  _

"Go on," he heard her barely whisper as she leaned her head back onto the sofa.  Harry lightly trailed up her neck, tore his eyes from the picture, and moved to her face and then placed a quick series of soft kisses on her mouth.

"Well," he murmured, "I wouldn't have had to _imagine_, had I seen this before," he ran a hand from her shoulder and down her arm slowly, "perhaps," another kiss, "I could have just," *_kiss* "remembered."_

He snuck in another look at the book in her lap and realized he could probably just snatch it from her now, but this was turning out to be much more fun than he had expected.  The look on her face was rapturous and he leaned back and watched her with pleasure as a smile played on his lips.  He saw her dreamily smile and ask, "What was it?"

His hand slid over her hand on the book and, with a finger, he tapped the book.  "This," he whispered.  

He watched with amusement as her eyes flew open and her face snapped forward to stare at the back cover of the book she had so recently wanted him not to see.  He thought her skin may have been flushed as he was kissing her, but that was nothing to the deep scarlet now colouring her face, down her neck and right up to the collar on her shirt, where Harry could only imagine (and he did), it extended beneath.  

She clutched the book to her chest, wrapping her arms around it and looked frantic; caught in the act.  Harry took pity on her and leaned his forehead to hers and looked into her eyes with merriment.  "Are you ready for dinner?"

She looked at him a moment before kissing him quickly and then ducking around him and off the sofa.  She gathered the other books she had into her bag and said, "Yes, I – I'll meet you in the kitchen."

He laughed to himself, knowing she was trying to securely hide the book for now.  He made a mental note: _must get hands on book.  _

"Hello, Harry."  Professor Dumbledore was seated at the long kitchen table in the basement, while Dobby stood on a chair across from him, wearing at least three knit hats atop his head.  

"Professor—I didn't know you'd be here." Harry felt a rush of disappointment at not having the whole night to be alone with Hermione.  _And to get a hold of that curious book_.  

Dumbledore just smiled at Harry over his half-moon glasses and answered as Harry took a chair beside Dobby.  "I had an idea, Harry.  I wanted to talk to you and see if it has any merit."  He looked to the scurrying Dobby, who was now eagerly spooning beef stew and Yorkshire pudding on a plate in front of Harry.  "Dobby here was kind enough invite me to stay for dinner.  He knew you were both just ready to head down within a few minutes."

He turned back to Harry, "How are you doing?  Keeping busy I assume?"  His eyes twinkled and Harry quite suddenly slammed up a mental brick wall against the thoughts of just what exactly he _had_ been doing.  Dumbledore just nodded, still twinkling and as Hermione can into the kitchen, he said, "I see the Occlumency is coming along nicely, indeed."

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione faltered but a moment upon seeing an unexpected face in the kitchen, "how are you this evening?"  Harry marvelled at her composure.  

After dinner, pudding another pudding, Dumbledore stroked his long beard and studied both Harry and Hermione.  "You have both been working very hard of late and I will not begrudge you your evening off, however, I do need to speak with you, Harry on one matter."  He looked at Hermione and smiled apologetically, "I'm sorry, it will only be a few minutes."

Hermione took no offense and left Harry and Dumbledore alone in the kitchen.  She took Dobby and Winky, too, asking them to show her their den in the attic.  

"Harry," he began, "I know when we last talked a few days ago, you did say you believed you were making progress in sealing your mind off when your emotions grew strong, and I would now like propose you attempt something with this."  Dumbledore was very serious in voice, despite the twinkling never leaving his eyes.  

"Earlier this evening, Professor Snape was summoned from Hogwarts.  He and myself, believe he is likely to remain with Voldemort for at least the night and possibly longer.  I would like to take this opportunity to try something.  Professor Snape should be able to report back to us about any strange events and so, will be able to provide us with feedback."

"I understand, sir."  Harry's full stomach was now feeling quite queasy, as he began dreading not being able to just enjoy his free evening with Hermione's help.  "Er, what is it that you'd like to try?"

"Well, Harry, it's not so much me as it is you.  I would like you to attempt a change in the control you exert on your mind when you are influenced by your emotion."  Dumbledore was staring intently at Harry.  Harry thought if he were trying to read his mind for a reaction, then he could try all he wanted—in fact, if he saw an answer, Harry would like to know because he hadn't a clue what he meant. 

"I don't understand."

Dumbledore twinkled.  "Since you've become aware of your emotion of love triggering and influencing the connection from you to Voldemort, you have been working to seal your mind to him in these instances.  As far as our sources can say, Voldemort has not seen nor felt nothing of the connection since.  However, I have been thinking about this, and I wonder now, if you were to _focus_ upon that feeling with all your mind, you should still be able to seal off the rest of your mind except for your focus, yet, possibly, _trigger_ the connection and, thus, cause Voldemort pain." 

Harry's brow furrowed, "Won't he just block me out then?"

Dumbledore nodded and said, "Possibly, especially eventually.  However, for now and at first, I believe he will be curious and eager to try to exploit the connection.  From Professor Snape's guess as to the nature of the vision Voldemort had where he identified Hermione, I believe that the last thing Voldemort and his servants believe is that you are able to _control_ the connection.  

"In the meantime, his summoning of Severus," Dumbledore smiled, "Professor Snape, may mean he has plans.  If you were able to hinder him now in anyway, it may be to our advantage in that regard, as well."

It made sense to Harry.  But he still wasn't completely clear what he had to do exactly.  

Dumbledore, apparently sensing this, said, "Recently, you have been, shall we say, checking yourself and perhaps, isolating any thoughts on this emotion, correct?  You said you've been able to feel when it begins and then stop it before it swells up; also, that in these instances, you've also been sealing your mind just in case it may have triggered the connection.  What I am asking now, Harry, is to _not_ stop that feeling from swelling—to _not_ close your mind completely, at all.  Rather, I want you to completely _focus_ your mind on that feeling and its swelling, _completely_.  As I said before, Voldemort, if this works—and I do believe it should—he should feel the connection reaching him—causing him pain.  

"It is, however, quite possible, that he may also be able to see what it is you are focussing upon.  But, if you are truly disciplined in your focus, than that is all he can see."

Harry was now heading upstairs and wondering how in the world he could bring this up with Hermione.  _Hello, yes, I was wondering, would you mind if we snog and I can gaze deeply into your eyes while we attempt to battle the forces the evil through love?  That'd go over well._

She wasn't in the drawing room and he went up to the top floor.  The door to her room was open but she wasn't in there.  He walked to his own room and then could hear the shower running.  Harry inwardly smiled and shifted himself as he stood for a moment, staring at the closed door to the bathroom.  He shook himself out of his fantasy after a few moments and went into his room, flopped down on the sofa and pointed his wand at the fireplace, "_Incendio!"  The fire sprang to life and Harry settled back into the sofa and brought his knees up to his chin and then stared off into the fire. _

It was several uncounted minutes before he realized the water had stopped running and the bathroom door opened, causing Harry to look up.  There stood Hermione.  In a towel.  Nothing but a towel.  Just one very short towel wrapped around her body and her hair was still wet.  She paused but a moment, saw Harry in his room with a completely gobsmacked expression on his face, and went on down the hall to her own room.  

Several more minutes later, Harry began to wake from his trance that had him continually seeing the image of Towel!Hermione.  Only then did he realize that that same Hermione, only now dressed (_damn), was sitting on the foot bench in his room, and watching him with much amusement.  _

"What?" he asked.

She just smirked.  "Nothing."

He decided a change of subject would be good.  "So how was the attic?"

Hermione rolled her eyes disgruntedly, "I wouldn't know.  I sniffed—admittedly stupidly—a jar of what I thought was lavender sachet, but Winky said it was really scurvy-grass and sneezewort.  She instructed me to shower and make sure I got it all off."  She shook out her hair, which Harry could see was still a bit damp. "Odd, she said there were jars and jars of it in the kitchen when she first came here.  I don't know what I was thinking—once she said what it was, I knew it looked nothing like lavender."  

"Odd," Harry agreed without really hearing.  He was back to staring off into the fire, trying to think of something intelligent to say.

"Do you have homework you want to do on tonight?" Hermione asked.

"What?"  Harry snapped back from his staring into the fire.  "No, not really.  Not tonight."

"Mm.  Did Professor Dumbledore have anything interesting to say?" Hermione inquired tentatively.

Harry looked at her a moment, mouth open and wracking his brain to think of way to say this.

"You don't have to tell me.  I know…"

"What do you mean you know?"

Hermione stood and looked at the bookshelf behind Harry and answered loftily, "I know with your being the Lead Light, you and Dumbledore will have secrets.  I know there are things you're still not telling me."

Again, Harry was speechless to hear this.

Hermione plucked a book off the shelf and sat down on the other end of the sofa.  "I know your shutting me out to something, Harry.  Whatever it is, I just hope you're talking to someone about it."

This was confusing now.  Harry shook his head, "Now you lost me.  I tell you – I don't understand—"

She levelled a look at Harry and said, "Harry.  I can see it.  When we are together.  You'll get this look in your eye and then—_bam!—up goes this wall."_

_Whoa_.  "Really?" asked Harry excitedly.

Hermione looked confused now.  She nodded like she thought he was a bit off.

'This is great—I was wondering how to explain this.  That's the Occlumency!"  Harry was relieved and excited that she could actually see it and sense it.

Hermione had a wash of realization wash over her and she nodded slowly.

"Yes.  That's kind of, er, what Professor Dumbledore wanted to speak with me about.  He, er, well I guess I've been doing all right since… you know, and all.  Er, but he wants me to try something different."

"Different?"

"Different.  He wants me to try to, er, well, not block it.  You see, Snape was summoned this evening so Dumbledore knows if I can try and affect Voldemort tonight, then Snape can report back about it.  Also, Dumbledore thinks that it might be likely that he's planning something again, and, well, Voldemort planning anything is never good."

Hermione still looked a little confused.

"He said I might try to, er, _not suppress_ it now, and to focus on it completely—to seal off the rest of my mind—and then he hopes that I might be able to cause Voldemort pain and also make him a bit curious to try to abuse the connection."  He saw a worried look flit across her face.  "But he won't.  He doesn't understand it.  He won't guess that I can control it."

Hermione was looking at him now.  "What is it you are suppressing?"

"Er, well, a feeling—you know how I described the feeling of Voldemort inside me?  Like a snake uncoiling?  It's completely the opposite of that.  But like it."  Harry laughed at his own awful explanation.  "It's kind of like—but that won't help you—"

"What?"

"Like, well, like my induction when before the sword came out.  It feels like a warmth spreading—only smaller—no, not smaller—just more, er, concentrated—acute.  Maybe.  I don't know—it's warm and it _swells.  Don't give me that look—this is entirely an internal feeling."  Harry swatted her on the arm.   "I don't know.  It's…well, it's different."_

"And what will it do when you don't suppress it?

_Good question_.  Harry thought about what it felt like it wanted to do.  "Er, blossom?" 

Hermione gave a short snort then covered her mouth. "Sorry," she mumbled.  'That just sounds…too…_poetic."  _

Harry grinned now, "Oh, no.  I'm definitely not poetic.  I just don't know how to describe it."  _It's love, you dolt.  Yeah, like I know what that feels like.  "It's rather unfamiliar to me."  __Oi.  _

Hermione just smiled at him, looked down, then back up and asked, "So how do you plan to do this?"

Harry had several ideas that might help him on his way but just grinned.  "You."

12 August 3 A.M. 

_Oh. My. God.  I can't sleep.  I don't know how I will ever sleep again.  I had to get out of bed so I can stop myself from just wanting to do everything and anything to her.  Oh, God.  Well, I can still feel my "emotion" even now if I think on it.  Amazing.  I can't explain it.  But I guess I'll try.  _

_It's like flying on a broom—only more dizzying.  But nearly as addictive, I think.  _

_Still haven't got my hands on that book, but I definitely approve of Hermione having it.  I don't think I can ever look at her the same way again.  I will never be able to watch her hold a quill (nor suck on the end of it—ahh!!) without thinking of what she just did to me tonight.  Twice.  Oh. My. God.  _

_I have never been so utterly exhilarated—yet somehow ashamed?—all at the same time.  No 'ashamed' is not the right word…  Vulnerable.  That's it.  _

_Oh. My. God._

_If this worked in any way to fight Voldemort, well, let's just say this:  Oh. My. God.   _  

_Ok.  Calming down.  _

_Does this mean I love her?  I mean, I guess it makes sense…in a way…  Don't friends love each other?  It doesn't necessarily mean I am 'in love' with her.  Does it?  _

_Isn't this the kind of thing girls natter on about—love and stuff?  Who am I supposed to ask these questions to?  Dumbledore—ha!—I don't think he would bat an eye if I did, but he would only give some cryptic answer and twinkle.  I'd ask Hermione, maybe—if I weren't her I was talking about.  Ron—no way.  _

_Oi—don't even get me started on what Ron would say.  First he would want to know *who* this was about.  Ok—let's stop there.  Leave that small disaster until later.  _

_Maybe it's a question for a parent.  Probably.  Figures.  Mr and Mrs Weasley are out of the question since they both think I am seeing Ginny.  Now that would be a nightmare—they'd either smack upside the head or start planning a wedding.  Don't know which would be worse.  Maybe Remus.  Sirius could have had something to say.  I'm sure he would have.  Don't know how good his advice would have been, but…I wish I could have asked.  _

_Maybe that's a new list I could make—Things I Wish I Would've Asked Sirius.  _

With a small fizzling noise, the quill Harry was writing with shrunk and disappeared.  It was one that he had conjured and actually lasted nearly three whole days.

"Harry?"  Harry turned from his desk to a groggy Hermione who lifted her head off the pillow and sleepily looked for her missing bed partner. 

Harry got up and slipped back into bed.  "Right here."  He slipped his arms around her and relished the feel of her body on his.  (He was only wearing his boxers and she, her bra and panties, so there was a lot to relish.)  "Go back to sleep," he whispered as he brushed back her hair and kissed her temple.

  

"Remus?  How do you know if you love someone?"  

Lupin looked up, startled by the question, from the chessboard as the two sat in Harry's room one evening.  Harry saw the startlement change then to sadness and sorrow and Lupin actually looked like he was about to…cry?  

He sniffed.  "Sorry, Harry."  He shook his head and blinked.  "Sorry."

"No—I shouldn't have asked, I'm sorry."  _Guess that was the wrong person to ask.  _

"No, no, Harry—it's just, well, I shouldn't be the one to answer that for you."  Harry nodded and felt a sense of isolation and being alone pull him away.  "No—Harry, wait—it's just that James—or Lily—or even Sirius—should have got to hear you ask that."

Lupin shook himself from his thoughts and, with a nostalgic look said, "Your parents, especially James, were always so proud of every little thing you ever did.  Which, mind you, for a little tyke and toddler such as you were, wasn't all that much.  I remember when your father kept making you try to show us all how you learned to walk—you weren't very cooperative, though—you thought it was rather funny, really."  Lupin was smiling with his reminiscing. "I suppose your father—and mother, and yes, most definitely Sirius—would have been just thrilled to be able to give you advice on your first love."  

The smile lingered on his face as he gazed off into the fire.  Harry loved to hear about his parents but always felt awkward asking about them.  He was eager to hear Remus tell more.

Lupin gave a low laugh, "Sirius, of course, would have been more eager to give you _his advice with women, though, than love.   He discovered nearly a hundred ways to get slapped by a witch, he did."  He shook his head at the memory and then looked at Harry, who had been listening raptly.  "I take it this is about Hermione?"_

Harry felt himself flush and he lowered his face and fingered his bishop. "Well…yes and no."

Lupin, being the excellent listener that he was, just waited for Harry to offer more.

"Do you…do you remember when Dumbledore called the few of you together to share the prophecy?" Lupin gave one nod of his head.  "Well, I was reading over Hermione's notes and, well, it seems like there was one part of it that he kind of skirted around.  I doubt maybe you all noticed, it was so much to take in—at least that's how I felt when I first heard it.  But anyway, do you recall when it talks about the power I have?"  Harry felt that perhaps if this was something he certainly could not discuss with Hermione, seeing as how it directly involved her, he now decided that Lupin may be the next best choice.

Lupin considered this and slowly answered, "Yes, I think I found myself wondering more about that only after the meeting was long over."

Harry went on, "Well, Dumbledore has a theory about it."

Lupin gave a wry smile.  "Yes, he does always seem to have his theories now, doesn't he."

Harry gave a quick, lopsided smile back.  "Yeah.  Well …" Now Harry hesitated.  It seemed to make it so much more real to actually talk about it.  "Well, he thinks it may be, I guess he says, well, love.  The power of love."  Harry's brow was furrowed and he saw even the chess pieces turning to look at him and listen curiously.  Silence followed, punctuated only by the crackling of the fire.

"It does make sense," Lupin mused.  

Harry snapped his head up.  "It does?  Why?"

Lupin gave that wry, half smile of his and said, "Because all this time I know I've been wondering what great power would emerge as your own.  You are very skilled at many things and adding more and more skills every day, Harry.  I keep wondering if it is all enough; it keeps me up at night."  Harry felt bad now for causing Lupin to look and be even more tired that he usually was—all because he was worried about him.  

"But you see, Harry, I keep reminding myself that you _will_ be alright, as long as you remember you have us upon whom you can rely.  So, I guess it makes sense, that the power of love be the power you have that Voldemort knows not.  Harry, you have many people who love you and support you and who believe in you, including myself."  

Harry felt a swell of emotion now and he paused—neither suppressing it nor allowing it to open itself—this was what it felt like to _be_ loved.  Unfamiliar, most definitely; he had gone _years_ with only the Dursleys and never felt that.   He had never even known what it was he had been missing.  But so what did it mean when he looked at Hermione and felt that feeling _inside_?

"Harry, I think most of us—Minerva, Alastor, myself, and Albus, for sure—all feel that while there are so many things and skills we can teach you, there is also a support we can offer you that will help you above all others: the support of knowing you are not alone in this.  Some of the things you learn—they may never be used to defend yourself, but the act of teaching you and making you feel you have weapons at your disposal, making you know that you have those who can and will continue to teach you and be there for and with you—Harry, that is the most valuable thing I've felt we can give you.  

"So, yes, I suppose that all does boil down to love.  You do have a knack, Harry, to inspire an awful lot of people to feel love for you, I can tell you that."

Harry scowled at this, "You mean pity?" 

Lupin shook his head sternly.  "No, Harry, pity is what someone who doesn't know you may feel when they hear of the tragedies you've endured.  Love is the support, friendship, and guidance you're gifted by those who do know you, your past, and your future.  What Molly has said about not wanting you to have to bear the burdens of the Order, we all feel, in a way.  None of us believe it is fair to _ask_ it of you.  But, I suppose that is one reason why Albus and you decided to share the rest of the prophecy.  There is no one else—you are 'The One', Harry.  

"Therefore, those who knew, now knew it was not a matter of putting a burden upon you, but rather, helping you.  And look at all the other members who voted, without much resistance, I should say, to pledge their support of your reign as Lead Light!  No offense, Harry, but I was a little surprised at that—I mean I thought some may want to abstain and hold off until later to give their support.  Then again, that's a testament to the need and desire everyone has to have hope and to believe we have a way to win.  They _want_ a leader and need to feel like they are doing their part by just following.  Which can be substantial, in and of itself.  On the other hand, you, the leader, need to understand you have our trust and support and that we _will_ follow you.  It all works together, Harry.  

"Imagine, Harry, as I am sure you have, had the prophecy never been made.  But—imagine us in exactly the same world we are today—no changes to the past.  Would that be better?  Would that be any different or better than if the prophecy had been made but never heard by anyone?  Fate was scripted but never known by anyone, imagine that.  I for one, Harry, think that would be a far worse situation for us to be in.  We would be unsure of a way, expending energy and resources into other things that would never pay back.  You wouldn't be receiving the training to enable you to defend yourself and teach your friends how to defend themselves at this time.  But tell me, might you still feel like Voldemort was your responsibility, even without the prophecy?"

Harry thought about that.  Of course he felt he had a right to know what had been going on ever since Voldemort's return.  He felt impotent and powerless when he had been kept in the dark, and even more suffocated by the fact that everyone was taking efforts to keep him safe and out of harm.  Hadn't he felt that helping his friends learn defense, (even if it did turn out to be nearly half his class) was important to enable them to also be able to fight against Voldemort?  He never recalled making a conscious decision to fight against him; he just understood that he would.  Harry nodded.  "Yes."

"Well then, nothing much changed for you, did it?  Now you just have us without the arguments to keep you out of it until you became of age.  Now, you have us knowing the stakes of this war and, well believe me, Harry, when I say this, some who may have hesitated to know the value of your life, now are left in little doubt.  Many people have and would sacrifice themselves for you—your parents as well as Sirius—all because they love you.  Now, more may not hesitate to do the same, myself included."

Harry was shaking his head, horrified, "No—no, I can't ask that—I won't!"

Lupin held up a hand and spoke, "Listen, your father, if you happen to have lost any respect for who he was by what you saw in Snape's pensieve, know this: he was a most wonderful friend and person and inspired much loyalty to him, even long after he is gone.  I myself, owe him for never making amends and because I have always felt some guilt for not making my case against Sirius—back through all those years when I thought it had been him as the traitor—and after for causing suspicion to be placed upon me, and not Peter. 

"I owe _you_, Harry, because I let my guilt eat away at me and told myself you didn't need some old friend of your father's, who wasn't even on good terms with him when he died and also felt partially responsible, in your life.  I knew where you were—Albus told me after he left you with the Dursleys—but I, I just didn't…I am so sorry for that."  Harry felt a prickling in the back of his eyes and stared avidly at the fire. "Even when I came to teach in your third year, I thought you would have a right to blame me for their deaths."

"You don't owe me," Harry forced out in a whisper with some difficulty.

Lupin just went on.  "I owe Sirius, too.  I should never have doubted him.  And also because, shortly after you called us on the Floo from school, he asked me something.  In a very un-Sirius-like moment of solemnity, he asked me to promise him that I would watch out for you if something happened to him.  I would, of course, even if he hadn't asked, but he made me take a Wizard's oath, so, I am bound to do so.  And, willingly, I shall."

It was amazing to Harry how sometimes he could feel quite mature and confident, but right now, it was all he could do to not want to just sob.  He took several minutes to reign in his emotions and finally, though nearly choked out, said, "I'd rather you lived to be there for me than die.  And I'd rather _I_ would have died than lose Sirius."

Lupin was tracing a pattern on the arm of the chair and then looked up at Harry.  In a quiet voice, he said with absolute certainty, "Well, Harry, _that's_ how you know you love someone."

"Arthur!  Have you come to help with Mr. Potter's training?  Excellent!  We need a guinea pig and you seem like a perfect candidate."  

Harry turned to see Mr. Weasley enter the practice hall and look warily at Professor McGonagall.  She had been working him and Hermione all morning and now, after lunch, it was just him.  He was about to begin to learn how to transfigure humans into other animals.  Secretly, he wished Draco Malfoy were around and he could see the sequel, _Return of the Amazing Bouncing Ferret_.  

"Ah, Minerva, well, I actually came not so much…hello there, Harry, how are you?"  Harry waved and smiled at Mr. Weasley's reluctance to be a guinea pig—literally.  "Actually, you see, I was hoping Harry might be able to spare me some time and have a chat," Mr. Weasley tried to hedge.

McGonagall was not to be dissuaded, "Well Arthur, this shouldn't take but a few moments, even if he messes up, I'm quite good and fixing people up.  Go on now Potter, and remember—focus."

Harry nodded and levelled his wand at Mr. Weasley who suddenly looked quite fearful and held up his hands and dodged back and behind McGonagall.  "Now hold on there!! What is he going to do to me?"

Harry saw McGonagall roll her eyes and she stepped away from Mr. Weasley and said, "Harry is going to turn you into a guinea pig, Arthur.  It won't hurt a bit."

"Have you, have you done this before Harry?" he asked in a high voice.

"Sure, er, but not with a person…"

Mr. Weasley's voice was unnaturally high now as he said, "You sure you got the incantation down already, Harry?"

"Don't be silly, Arthur,' McGonagall admonished.  "Harry doesn't use incantations any more.  What's the use of trying to transfigure an attacker if they know it's coming?  It's a different class of spell not blockable by standard curse and hex shields.  Stealth with transfiguration can be highly effective.  Besides, Potter works best without incantations—one slip of enunciation and he'll think he messed up.  His training on Occlumency with Professor Dumbledore has left him with a very strong ability to focus his mind and he really doesn't need incantations at all, at this point.  Another two weeks at this rate, and he'll be better than me—and that's saying something."  She waved Harry to get on with it.

He levelled his wand again and tried to look as genial as possible.  He focused on the image of a guinea pig and then looked at Mr. Weasley.  He imagined Mr. Weasley suddenly turning into a guinea pig.  He imagined the guinea pig being alive and still being Mr. Weasley.  With a deep breath and flick of his wand, _'Crack!', suddenly there was a red-furred guinea pig huddling down on the ground at his feet.  _

"Move about, Arthur," McGonagall instructed.  

The guinea pig seemed to look at itself and then back at Harry and then at Professor McGonagall before scurrying a few feet to the right and then to the left.  

"Excellent.  Now change him back, Potter."

Harry reversed his thinking, flicked his wand and with a _'pffft!'_, the guinea pig grew up and back into Mr. Weasley.   

"Well, I'll say!" cried Mr. Weasley, "That was excellent, Harry!"

McGonagall looked stern and said, "Actually it was not.  Potter, you made him grow back—not change back instantaneously, as you should.  An unwilling subject, who may try to fight the spell, could be seriously injured that way.  Try it again."

Harry did it again, and this time, he properly returned the guinea pig to Mr. Weasley, with a loud, _'crack!'_. 

"Much better," McGonagall praised.  'All right, we're done for today.  Make sure Remus is around to help if you practice that."

Harry nodded and Mr. Weasley smiled and said, "Is there someplace we can go, Harry?"

"Sure, my room is just out and through the hall," said Harry as he pointed out the door.

He then heard McGonagall call out, "Potter!  One more thing—if I see you try to use that spell on another student, especially one certain Mr. Malfoy, it will be a detention, Lead Light or no, you are not allowed to abuse these skills."  

Even from across the room, Harry could see her mouth in a thin line as she gave him her patented stern look.  "And that includes the train ride to Hogwarts, too!  Wait!! Arthur—actually I should speak with you before you leave."

Mr. Weasley looked at Harry uncertainly and said, "Well this may take a bit, Minerva, what is it?"

She looked at Harry and said, "Only a few minutes."  Harry took the hint and pointed to through the door and said, "Just through there, Mr. Weasley, when you're done."

Harry hurried off and into his room and over to his desk.  Since Mr. Weasley was here, he thought he ought to write out a quick note to Ron to pass to him.  So much had happened since they had left…

_Ron_, 

_How've you been?  I've been so busy I've barely had time to think, much less write.  Sorry about that.  Guess what?  I learned how I can transfigure Malfoy into a ferret today!  But McGonagall made me promise not to use it on him in school.  She said it would be a detention from her, but, actually, I think it may be worth it_.  

So much had happened indeed, however, as Harry recalled the past week and half since Mrs. Weasley left in a huff, he realized much of it he couldn't even begin to tell Ron.

_Well, write back and send it with your Mum or Dad on Friday_.  

_See you soon, _

_Harry  _

Harry then thought he ought to write a quick note of thanks to Ginny for helping the way she did.  _Oh no.  Ginny…  Mr. Weasley must think that Ginny and he are an item.  __He probably wants to have a "talk"… bugger!  Harry quickly grabbed a new sheet of parchment and dipped his quill in the inkwell and wrote hastily:_

_Ginny_, 

_Thank you so very, very much your kind, kind actions.  It was very greatly appreciated.  I owe you_.  _Hermione says 'Hi'_.  _See you soon._

Harry 

Harry hoped this was adequate and that she would know what he meant.  He also thought that Hermione was probably right in that they should get her something as a token of thanks since who know how much teasing she has had to endure.  And Ron must be awful!  _Oh no… He hated Michael Corner when she was with him, Harry wondered if he would be as cold now towards him?  Maybe him seeing Hermione and me together would have been the easier thing, after all. _

Harry grabbed the note to Ron and scribbled a post script at the bottom:

_P.S. Please tell me you're not mad at me nor Ginny!  Please?_

Just as he finished, he heard a knock at his door.  He turned, as he rolled up the letters, to gesture with his head for Mr. Weasley to come in.  He stood and walked over to the pair of armchairs near the fireplace.  "Have a seat, Mr. Weasley.  Sorry about having to transfigure you earlier." 

Mr. Weasley placed himself in the chair, but didn't sit back, instead, he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees.  "Oh, no problem, Harry.  That was quite impressive there.  You're learning a lot this summer, are you?"

"Yes," nodded Harry, "I feel like I'm learning as much as I have in the past five years combined.  I'm enjoying it, really."

"Excellent," said Mr. Weasley as he fidgeted with his hands and began to look slightly uncomfortable.  

"Er, you wanted to talk to me sir?"  Harry gained some confidence at Mr. Weasley's discomfort.

"Well, yes, now really, Molly, that is, she wanted me to, er, well, it is to say that she was thinking that perhaps it might be prudent, if I were to possibly…er, shall we say…er, talk with you…"

Harry was looking more and more confused as Mr. Weasley rambled indistinctly along.

"…you see she may be under the impression that you may need someone or some help or well, that you may be at a disadvantage—not that we believe—"

"Mr. Weasley?  You've lost me."

"Well, it's Molly really—"

"Ok, Mrs. Weasley wanted you to talk with me—I understand."

"Right.   She's been talking to Ginny, you see," Harry's stomach knotted at the confirmation that this chat was fuelled by the belief that he and Ginny had been doing 'untoward' things in his bed, "and now she wants to make sure someone talks with you."

Harry just nodded as he thought he might now spew his lunch if he tried to speak.

" I understand this is a bit awkward for both of us, and it's quite likely that perhaps someone else has already covered this and all, but I guess I'm here for you be able to ask me any questions you might have.  You know.  Things you need to know."

_Things I need to know?  That sounds like a list I should write_… Again, Harry could only nod.

"Well then, do you?"

Harry did an excellent impression of a gaping fish and even managed to sound like one as he tried futilely for his brain to function.  

"Well," Mr. Weasley, now a brilliant shade of the famous, Weasley-red, went on, "perhaps you don't even know what it is you don't know and so, you don't know what you need to ask.  You remember what it felt like when you first held your wand, Harry?"

Things, in Harry's mind, just took a drastic turn for the worse.  He thought he was also sporting a rather Weasley-esque shade of red.  

"You remember that warm and tingly feeling you got when you found just the wand for you?  The one that you just knew was yours and that you'd be taking home?"

Harry could barely hear the words being spoken as a distant echo but knew enough to nod along.

"Well, you see, the time may come along when a person, er, girl, let's say, might make you feel that same way.  Do you know what I mean?"

Er…

"Well, okay, so you know how you felt when you had your wand and you knew you were going to learn and be able to do magic and all then?  Most kids are very excited then—they can't wait to begin to use this new and exciting thing they've just discovered.  You may have felt a little unsure at first, everyone is different, but really, you wanted nothing more than to be able to use the magic to which you were just given access and knowledge."  Mr. Weasley was studiously examining the sleeve of his robe and so was Harry, still, not making any noise what so ever.

"But you see, it can be dangerous—you don't know how wrong things can go if you mess up and you don't understand how to stop things once you may have started.  

"Maybe I should use inkwells to explain this—you know how you have a quill? Well, several quills, most likely.  And you know how those quills—just ordinary and common, merely nature's way to clothe an eagle or partridge or grouse, or even a – well, you get my point.  That this ordinary thing—a quill—can be used to do extraordinary things—if—_if_—it's dipped properly in an inkwell—"

"I understand," Harry said suddenly.  This had to be stopped.  This could not bloody well go on.  "I know, er, my last year of primary school, they explained all this to us.  I know how it all, er, works."  _Why can't Voldemort attack at a convenient time, like now???_

Mr. Weasley looked tremendously relieved.  "Oh, that's great, Harry.  Muggles, eh?  I wonder if there's any differences…?"  

Harry vigorously shook his head. "No.  It's the same."  _I hope.  Better find out.  "I checked."  _

Mr. Weasley looked disappointed and then confused and asked, "But the charms?  And...well...how could they—I mean, what about _prevention—_they can't use potions, can they?"  He looked very eager to hear about this new aspect of muggle life.

"Er, well they have other things.  And there are things you can get from a chemist…kind of like potions, too."   Harry really hoped this conversation would end soon.

"Really?  Tell me about them?"  

_Oh no_.  "Er, well, I don't know much—I've never…" Harry thought he had to match the Gryffindor red of his duvet by now, "_used_ them, I just know they are there…"

Mr. Weasley looked very disappointed but just nodded, "Well, that's good to hear.  I mean, not that you shouldn't use these things, if you are going to…well, er, you know, then it's best to be…er, _prepared, you catch my drift?"_

A high, familiar hoot broke the most awkward and awfully downward spirally conversation of Harry's life.  Pig soared in through the window, bounced into the ceiling, and promptly knocked himself out and landed with a thud on Harry's lap.  

"Well, I see Ron has written you—or perhaps it's Ginny, eh?"  

Harry snapped his head up from the stunned, elfin owl in his lap to see Mr. Weasley smiling mischievously.  

"Oh, we know all about it, Harry.  Ginny told us everything and really, we couldn't be happier."

Huh?

"Oh, Molly has always hoped you and Ginny would find each other—you've already become like one of the family, now perhaps—not now, of course—but someday, it may be official.  I agree, even Ron thinks it's just right as rain and that we think there is no one nearly good enough for our Virginia, but you.  Harry, you have our blessing, and although I'm sure Molly would have liked me to give a bit of a more stern lecture, I'm sure you are responsible and that you have more than enough to keep you busy for now—"

Pig began to flip over and flutter his wings and chirp, cutting off Mr. Weasley.  Harry grabbed him and held on.

"Well, I'll let you get to your post, I must be getting back to work now."

Harry just nodded dumbly and watched, open-mouthed, as Mr. Weasley rose, grinned and waved before he left.  Harry was still holding a frantically chirping Pig and his rolled up letters to Ron and Ginny.  _Bugger_.

Harry unrolled the parchments from Pig saw there were two pages.  The first read:

_Harry, _

_Mum just threatened Dad with torching his shed out back, if he didn't go see you and give you the Quill and Inkwell talk.  (Stop him before he gets to the pre-inked quills that don't need inkwells--it's awful!)  _

_Mum, Dad and I are all excited about you and Ginny--even Fred and George.  Charlie, and Bill, however, have been muttering about you.  Beware.  _

_Mum may let us come back to there just before we leave for school, I'll let you know.  _

_Ron_

The next piece of parchment said:

_Harry, _

_Just keep playing along.  This is working out to my advantage right now and you can ask Hermione to explain why.  Thank you!_

_Ginny_

A very confused Harry flopped back in the chair and didn't even notice when Pig, the ever-eager owl, picked up Harry's rolled up letters he had written before his chat with Mr. Weasley, and took off with them in his beak.  


	19. Chapter 22 Angles

Chapter 22. Angles 

"What does this mean?" Harry demanded as he held Ginny's letter in front of Hermione.

Hermione read over the short note quickly and just smiled as she handed it back to Harry.  

Harry, getting irritated with the lack of an answer, prompted, "Well?  Did she tell you something? I have no idea how this is _advantageous_ for her, but I just had to sit through one of the most agonizing experiences of my life--and that's saying a lot.  I had to listen to Mr. Weasley talk about _quills_ and _inkwells--and he wanted to know--" Harry stopped as he quickly realized he might be saying too much.  He shifted on his feet, impatiently.  "Well?"_

Hermione, looking quite amused and pink-cheeked, let him wait a few moments before carefully asking, "So, the Weasleys now think you and Ginny are…" she made a waving motion with her hand, "…you know?"

Harry shifted yet again and sighed exasperatedly.  "Yes. Um-hm.  You can definitely say that."  His tone was quite--_clipped_.  

Hermione just smirked.  "Well, then it seems like Ron will not be suspecting us as being …" she made the same hand gesture again, "…now, will he?"

Harry's eyes bulged at this and his jaw dropped.  "Hermione!  I don't think you understand!  Mrs. Weasley is practically planning a _wedding!"_  Harry was frantic.  He muttered, "I'm quite sure she'll want green for the bridesmaids as it'll match my eyes…"

Hermione just rolled her eyes.  "Honestly, Harry.  It's just for now."

He froze.  "What?  What's …just for now?"

Hermione gave him an inscrutable look and carefully said, "Everyone thinking that the two of you are together."  She straightened herself up and said, "It's only for now.  Until Ron has time to settle back down after…well, you know.  Although…" she bit her lip consideringly and crossed her arms.  

"What?"

"Well, I suppose we could--no, that's what Ginny meant.  She did do this for us so we have to help her out, too."

Harry just shook his head trying to make some sense out of the normally more-than-sensical Hermione.  "_What could we do--have done??" he demanded._

She looked at him sharply, "Well, we could write to Ron now and tell him--"

"No."  That would be incredibly rude to write in a letter, Harry thought.

"--_but--yes, obviously that might be a bit, er, inconsiderate--even though it would allow him some time to cool off before term begins."_

Harry actually looked to consider this a moment, but still shook his head, "No.  There's only two weeks left—he'd be completely brassed off--especially to find out that we have now lied to him!"

"Have we?"  Hermione said indignantly.  "He's draw his own conclusions," she said loftily.  "Besides, Ginny did this for us and for herself, as well."

"Yes, please do explain _that_."  Harry had lost all hope of understanding girls by now and really wasn't expecting to understand what Ginny could possibly be getting out of this except trips into town to look for wedding dresses or robes or whatever.

Hermione just smiled at him.  "Well," she spoke slowly, as if explaining this to a small child (Harry actually appreciated the effort), "I imagine that she is using now and for however long we keep this up, to divert attention away from who she is really seeing."  

"Who?  Dean?"

Hermione nodded.  "You remember what a prat Ron was last year after he found out about Michael Corner--just imagine what a prat he would be to someone he was around all the time.  He kept interrogating Ginny last year; she would come back in to the Tower from studying or, well, whatever--and he would _demand to know where she was.  He really quite insufferable." _

Harry sat down on the sofa beside Hermione.  He was marveling at the idea that, so far, he understood something about a girl.  "Ok … so … _I'm_ somehow acceptable to Ron?  And the rest of her family?"

Hermione was back to biting her lip again.  "Well, I think with Ron, it was the realization that Ginny was growing up and was bound to be dating anyway.  So, he, er, well, actually, he even asked me to try to urge you to notice Ginny.   I think he decided you'd be the best one to trust with dating her."

"What?  Why?  He--_what_?"

  Hermione just smiled.  "You are his best friend, Harry.  You didn't see what he was like when you weren't around us--"

"Imagine that."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "He was moping all the time when you weren't there."  She began to tick off on her fingers, "The summer here before you arrived, all your detentions with--" she shuddered, unable to say the name.  "There were also the times when we had Prefect meetings and then when he had quidditch practice…and, oh yes, when you had Occlumency with Snape--"

Now Harry was scowling, "Yeah, I just bet he though I was off having a grand old time, didn't he.  I swear if you tell me he was jealous--"

"No, Harry! He wasn't jealous!  He was _lonely!"_

At that, Harry felt bad.  He wasn't sure why he had suddenly gone off on Ron like that.  Really, having one's endorsement to date their little sister might have been taken as a compliment really.  But it also smacked of someone else making decisions about his life and trying to control his choices.  Harry had had enough of that to last a lifetime; a long lifetime, hopefully.  

Hermione went on, "And when you began to go with Cho, I think, well, I think he missed you even more when you actually _chose_ to spend time with someone else--not just having detentions or classes with Snape.  He probably thought Ginny was an excellent choice to ensure you never got too far away."

Harry took a deep breath.  "Well, so what do we do?  How long do we…keep this up?"

"Well, obviously at least until term begins. Then, I say we should discuss it with Ginny.  She's in on this too, and Dean, really.  That sounds best--we can also assess how Ron will take it then."  She removed the books from her lap and slid over, closer to Harry and put one hand over his, resting on his thigh.  "Sound okay?" she asked hopefully.  

He nodded and she moved close in to his ear and whispered, "Good."  

As she kept her mouth there and began to kiss his neck, Harry forgot all about Ron and had a fleeting thought that Ginny, was indeed, to be thanked heartily for her efforts.

"Good evening, Harry.  How was your workout today?"  

Dumbledore was already seated in the library study when Harry entered after completing his regular Friday afternoon training with Kingsley.  Dumbledore had asked Harry to meet him in the study prior to the weekly Order meetings to go over any news and all the updates that had been sent in.

Dumbledore was now sifting though and unrolling parchments from what looked to be an ordinary, pewter cauldron by the library's fireplace.  Rather, the cauldron was the receptacle for non-urgent communications and updates from members of the Order.  

Dumbledore had explained to Harry, shortly after his induction, the ways Order members used to communicate amongst themselves and with the Lead.  Order members were all given an enchanted cauldron, similar to this one, and also given charmed parchment.  Messages could then be written on this parchment and when placed into the enchanted cauldron, sprinkled with a dusting of Floo powder and with the tap of a wand, the parchments would be sent to the desired receptacle cauldron.  This one in the library of Grimmauld Place was for standard, non-urgent Order member updates and communications.  

"Long.  Anything newsworthy lately?"  Harry asked as he sat across the table from Dumbledore, who tapped his wand to a blank piece of parchment, and with a revealing charm, watched writing appear on the page.

"Well," Dumbledore shuffled to a specific parchment and slid it across to table to Harry, "William has still not had a specific request from the Goblins to meet or even to hint at what they might want."

Harry read the short update note and furrowed his brow.  "But I thought we were the ones who wanted something from them?  Didn't we start this by wanting to talk with them?"

Dumbledore peered over the top of a long roll of parchment at Harry.  "Yes, we did.  But we are not expecting something for nothing.  I might have thought before it was just a matter of money, but now, with them seeming to want your word on any deals we may strike, I'm not so sure."

"You think…you think they want my money?" Harry asked.  He had received an inventory statement from Gringotts the previous week, and much to his astonishment, Hermione had informed him that in no uncertain terms, was he hurting for gold.   The amounts listed on the statement meant little to him as he had never really learned much about money handling and finances.  (It would have been difficult to learn this from the Dursleys as they had never really given him two pence to rub together.)   When he handed the statement to Hermione for her assessment, she had dropped her jaw and took nearly a minute before managing a coherent sentence.  

Dumbledore was shaking his head, "No, Harry, I don't think they want your money.  I was expecting that they might want to seize possession of the accounts that we might like to see frozen.  However, I've begun to wonder now." 

Harry waited to hear what Dumbledore had begun to wonder but it seemed he wasn't meant to know.  

Harry asked, "Well, why can't we just ask them for what we want and then see what they say?  Why try to guess? "  Harry didn't see why Dumbledore and Bill were so insistent upon finding out what the Goblins might have up their sleeves.

Dumbledore gave Harry a piercing look.  "Harry, it's your word of honor they want on any deals we strike—don't you want to know what they may ask you to promise?"

Harry almost laughed, "Sir, I don't see that many things they can actually ask from me, except money.   What could they possibly want from me?"

Dumbledore's look was still solemn.  "That's what I would like to find out, if, indeed there is something they might want from you."  He went back to shuffle a few more parchments and began to speak offhandedly, "The Goblins, distant—very distant—ancestors to elves—they were created by wizards in an attempt to cross breed-elves and humans, have a unique brand of magic.  They, like wizards, can do magic, but like elves, can do it without wands.  However, unlike elves—I am sure by now you have noticed elves have a natural ability to see the minds of those around them—its how they know what you want and need—Goblins were breed to lack this ability and, I believe, were also intended to have much of their magical abilities stripped away.  It was not a complete success on the part of the wizards attempting the crossbreeding.  Anyway, Goblins lack, not only the natural, if you may, mind-reading abilities of elves, but also the innate intuitiveness that guides many creatures to learn and feel trust.  Between Goblins, their 'word' is said to be regarded with the utmost honor.  It was, at one time, agreed to be so even between wizards and Goblins.  

"That's how they got to be the sole bankers in all of the Wizarding World – after the last Goblin Rebellions finally ended and the International Statutes for Wizarding secrecy were placed into effect, our world had to devise its own banking system. It was bargained with the newly emancipated Goblins that they might have an unchallenged monopoly to operate the bank.  It was an act of faith that wizards sought to demonstrate by granting Goblins the job of holding our finances secure.  They take their jobs very seriously and, although they do how to turn a profit for themselves, there has never been a founded case of a Goblin cheating a wizard. "  Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temple as he smiled over at Harry.  "But, I imagine you heard these boring history facts more than once from Professor Binns."  

_Bugger.  __Perhaps I should have tried more notes and less hangman in History of Magic…_

"I still have not heard from nor seen Sev--, er, Professor Snape, since he left earlier this week to answer his summons."  

Harry was surprised.  He had felt that Dumbledore had expected Snape to return sooner.  In fact, he had even been looking forward to it.  He and Hermione had been having a little running joke between them that each night they were 'doing their part to fight Voldemort' and he was eager to hear if he had any effect of Voldemort.  "Shouldn't he have returned by now, sir?"

Dumbledore looked haggard as he answered, "I would have thought so.  However, it may not be of any concern."

Harry then began to wonder more about what exactly Voldemort might be doing.  He was, after all, a dark lord, and what else do dark lords do, but plot.  "Sir, do you know what he is plotting next?  The attack on Hermione's house—that was in reaction, supposedly to me—not really a planned thing.  You knew last year that he was after the prophecy—do you think he has given up on that completely?"  

All this time Harry himself had been busy working towards his own goal of improving his magic, learning new skills, and becoming one who could someday hope to fight Voldemort, somehow.  But, he had seemingly forgotten that while he had plans and was actively trying to achieve them—his enemy was just as likely to be doing the same.

Dumbledore began to twinkle now and nodded, pleased, at Harry.  "Yes, an excellent question.  We know that his immediate reaction to that night at the Ministry was to regain his lost supporters—it's why he summoned the Dementors from Azkaban.  When he failed to find them incarcerated there, he and his few remaining servants had to begin their search for these prisoners."  Dumbledore really was twinkling and Harry just knew he must have had some role in keeping the captured Death Eaters hidden.  "They have been focusing on this for all of July.  The night that the Granger's house was destroyed was on a day where Voldemort had just realized he had been lead on a wild, er, _goose, chase.  Since then, Professor Snape had not been summoned back and so now, it is only left to our speculation whether Voldemort may still want to focus on finding his lost servants or set in play a new plan, altogether."_

Harry thought he liked the idea of Voldemort focusing on finding his lost servants much better than a new plot to go after the Boy-Who-Refused-to-Die.  

"But, you wanted me to distract him, perhaps, with the connection?" Harry asked.  

Dumbledore nodded.  "Yes, as I said before, you are capable now to prevent yourself from being completely taken advantage of by Voldemort through your connection and if we could lure him with the illusion of a weakness which he might then endeavor to exploit—well, then that might steer him away from less desirable plots."

Harry was left thinking on this as the mantle clock chimed seven o'clock, announcing the time for the convening of the next meeting of the Order of the Phoenix.

Only about half the members of the Order were present at the meeting.  There was not much in the realm of new business as Dumbledore generally liked to funnel this away from open meetings and into private communications.  Dumbledore had explained to Harry that he felt it might be best if they held back on comments and speculations on many things from occurring during meetings.  Dumbledore said it was better to just listen and observe as others offered their input and then take the matter under consideration with private counsel.  Harry was much relieved to hear he wouldn't be expected to come up with input and opinions on everything during meetings.  

Emmeline Vance reported her committee with the Ministry had sent out owls to parents to choose whether their children would arrive at Hogwarts via portkey or Hogwarts Express.  She did say the Department of Magical Transportation was a little wary of everyone opting for the portkey. "I just wish there was some way for them to feel the Hogwarts Express was, indeed safe.  We may end up regretting this if we have to arrange for hundreds of portkeys."

Hermione, as usual, had enchanted a quill to take verbatim notes of the meeting for her own perusal and dissection later.  Harry had already been very thankful for her preparedness and felt like he got more out of reading her meeting notes than just by listening.  Especially when Hermione added her own personal observations into the notes.  

At the end of the meeting, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley eyeing him and smiling.  Not wanting anything remotely like the talk he had with Mr. Weasley, he bolted for the door and beat a hasty exit as soon as the meeting was officially adjourned.  

He was stopped short as he got into the Entry Hall as both Bill and Charlie Weasley apparated in front of him.  

"Where you off to so fast, there, eh?" Charlie asked.

Bill pulled out a small roll of parchment from his vest and asked, "Does this look familiar?"

Harry was backing up from the two advancing older brothers of the girl he was supposedly seeing and hit the wall in the corner by the staircase with an, "Oof!"  Harry looked at the unrolled parchment and saw his own handwriting.  

It was the short note Harry had written to Ginny the day before.  

Charlie grabbed it and began to read in a pinched voice, "'Thank you so very, very much for your kind, kind actions.  It was greatly appreciated.  I owe you.'"  Harry saw that both Bill and Charlie were looking rather, er upset right now.

In a voice slightly reminiscent of what he sounded like back when he was eleven, Harry said, "I didn't know Ginny was in the habit of sharing her mail with her family."  Then, without waiting for any answer, he disapparated away and up to his bedroom where he promptly sealed the door.

"Told you he'd pop up here as soon as they cornered him."

Harry whirled around, brandishing his wand at the sound of yet another Weasley voice.  The twins were lying back, looking relaxed and carefree, on Harry's bed.

"Hello there, Harry partner.  How's life?" one twin asked.

With teeth clenched in anticipation of another over-protective brother episode, Harry ground out, "What exactly do you two think you are doing in here?"

"Harry!"

"Mate!"

They each rolled off one side of the bed and came around to stand by Harry, who was still holding his wand and alternating between pointing it at each twin.

"I'm wounded!"  George—it had to be him, he was wearing a shirt that read, 'Fred's a Wanker', clutched his chest.

"Don't you trust us mate?" asked the Wan--, er, Fred.

"Yeah, don't you think we're trustworthy?"

Harry felt he could safely and surly answer that.  "Absolutely not."

"You've been keeping secrets, Mr. Potter," said Fred in a serious tone.

"Big secrets—life-altering secrets," added George.

_That about sums up my life, yup.  _

"George and myself having been asking ourselves—why would Harry never tell us this secret?"

"Does he really not like us at all and secretly wish to deny us one of the greatest dreams we've ever held?"

"Doesn't he appreciate all the times we've kept him from being bludger-fodder?"

"Did he think we just weren't worthy—"

"What the blazes are you two talking about?"  Harry couldn't take any more—he was getting dizzy from looking back and forth between the two.  

Fred and George looked at each other and then back at Harry.  George dropped to one knee and bowed, "Oh, son of Prongs, we bow before you."

Fred followed suit, "We ask for your blessing in our endeavors to aid mischief on the name of magic. Er, oops, magic in the name of mischief, I mean."

Harry understood now and smirked.  "You lot finally figured it out, have you?"

The twins stood back up and were grinning.  "All last summer we were living with Padfoot and Moony!! No one ever said a word!"

"And you knew, Harry!  You knew they were our idols!"  Fred was shaking his head.

"And you!  Hell, Harry—_Prongs was your dad!  No wonder you get into so much trouble!"  _

Harry was laughing now, "How'd you finally figure it out?"

"Oh, last week when we went with Remus and Mad-Eye to do security assessments on Hogwarts.  Remus turns up with the Marauders Map and Fred and I nearly fall over."

"Yeah, we're thinking you must be mad to let any adult see it, even if it is in the name of security."

"Then Remus—or should I say, Moony—tells us that everything on the map is no secret to the Death Eaters," said Fred with a dark look.

"Yeah, he explained that Scabbers was Wormtail.  Pettigrew."  George scowled at this and Harry felt his own face turn into a grimace.

Loud knocking on the door made them all jump.  

"We know you're in there, Harry!"  

"It's Charlie," whispered George.  

"Here, Harry," Fred dug in his pocket and pulled out a wrapped candy, "eat this quick."

"Er," Harry knew enough to never take any food from the twins.

"Go on," Fred urged, "it's a Nosebleed Nougat.  Then take this—it's a Fainting Fancy.  It'll look like we roughed you up good."

"Yeah, then those two will leave you alone," George said and urged Harry to take the proffered sweets.

Harry, quickly deciding the twins trick sweets were the lesser of two evils compared to Bill and Charlie right about now, downed the Nosebleed Nougat.  He felt his nose fill and felt a tickling sensation as blood began to drip down and onto his lip.  He tilted back his head and George pushed the next one into his hand. 

"Now this—you'll pass out for about five minutes.  The nosebleed should be done by then, too. We'll take care of those two out there."  

Harry took the small chocolate and chewed it, thinking it tasted slightly of blood now, and then felt the room spin and suddenly go black.

"Remus! Professor Dumbledore!  Come quick it's Harry!"  

Harry felt like his head was being unwrapped from a gauzy cotton turban.  Everything was dark and fuzzy and there was yelling.  Suddenly, he felt his body lift up and begin to float.  "Ergh…"

He felt his body land on a soft bed of…well, a bed.  "Harry?  Are you all right?"  

He knew that voice.  He liked that voice.  He felt himself smile, "Umm."

"Oh, Harry!  What in the world happened to you?"  Hermione was stroking his brow and wiping something off his chin. 

"Hermione?  What—oh!  Harry?"  

Lupin.  Harry recognized that voice immediately.  The haze was clearing and he cracked open his eyes.  

Lupin looked over Hermione's shoulder and looked pale.

"What happened?"  

Another demanding voice—this one Dumbledore.  _Hmm, what did happen?  Harry tried to remember._

Hermione spoke then, "I just found him knocked out and bleeding like this!  I levitated him to the bed—I hope that was okay."

Harry could hear the worry in her voice as he looked around at the three people assembled around him_.  Bleeding.  A nosebleed.  Fainting. Gred and Forge.  Harry began to chuckle.  Then he began laughing, albeit, with coughing interspersed as he coughed up some blood he must have swallowed.  "I'm," cough, "fine."_

"You most certainly are not!"  Hermione sounded a little irrational.

"Harry, you certainly don't look fine."  Lupin was looking back and forth between Harry and Professor Dumbledore.

Harry was still laughing.  "No, really.  It's fine."  He coughed some more.  "Ergh.  Guess those two shouldn't really be mixed."

"What two?  Who did this?"  Hermione demanded.

Harry smiled.  "Nosebleed Nougat and Fainting Fancies."  He grimaced as he said, "I think I swallowed some of the blood."

Hermione looked outraged.  "Why on earth –oh!"  Her eyes narrowed and Harry thought her resemblance at the moment to Mrs. Weasley was definitely not attractive.  "Fred and George did this, didn't they?!"

"Er, well, kind of.  But wait—it was okay.  I knew I was taking it."  Harry looked sheepishly around and felt bad for making them worry.  He muttered, "Thought they might have stuck around, though."

"Well, if you are well, Harry—perhaps a cleaning charm, Hermione, to tidy him up?"  Dumbledore seemed amused as Hermione quickly cleaned the blood from Harry's face.  

They all just stood and looked at Harry for a moment of silence until Harry grew uncomfortable and muttered, "I am fine you know."

Hermione realized she was sitting on the bed and holding his hand in front of Lupin and Dumbledore and she stammered and moved away.

Harry also rolled out of bed and stood up, shaking away the rest of the hazy feeling left from the Fainting Fancy.  

Lupin breathed out a sigh of relief and then smiled at Harry, "I would have thought you'd know better than to take anything from the twins."

Harry rolled his eyes.  "I know that."

Before he could explain more, though, Dumbledore spoke, "I was just stopped by Molly Weasley after the meeting.  She told me to tell you, Harry, that Ginny surely sends her regards."  Harry met Dumbledore's piercing look with dread.  "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Harry, feeling the mounting burden of maintaining the charade of him and Ginny dating, turned and gave Hermione a glare.

She seemed to shrink away and, biting her lip, attempted an innocent look as she asked, "Why are you looking at me?"

Harry's eyes went wide.  "This was your idea!"

She was back to her full height, but still desperately trying to maintain the innocent look, "My idea! It wasn't—it was Ginny's!"

Harry just scowled.  "Well, I hope she's having the time of her life then, 'cuz I'm certainly not."

Hermione just looked desperately at Harry.  

Harry remembered that they weren't alone and glanced at Remus and Dumbledore.  Dumbledore had one eyebrow raised and held Harry's gaze.  "Well, it seems to me, Harry, like you're tackling your own lesson in stealth and subterfuge."  

_And that would be a euphemism for 'lying'.  Harry felt terrible.  "I'm sorry.  This is our mess.  I'm sorry you got dragged into this."_

Dumbledore waved Harry to stop.  "Say no more. All I will tell you both is that now is not the time to jeopardize friendships.  Now, Harry, I must tell you, Hermione here, had an idea after the meeting.  Do you want to tell him?" Dumbledore asked Hermione.

The mood turned quickly back to business as Hermione explained, "Remember what Emmeline said about hoping all the parents were not going to choose portkeys?  I had an idea about that.  I was thinking, if there was a way that the public could hear about all the precautions that Hogwarts was taking with the Express and could hear, maybe, that you thought it was all well and safe, then they would also all feel like it was safe.  So, I was thinking, if you gave a small interview—"

"To Skeeter?" Harry broke in, incredulously.

Hermione looked dubious, "Well, we do have a bit of a working relationship with her.  If we feed her some well-planned interviews, then we can keep her on our side and _that's worth a lot.  She doesn't have to be nice anymore."  Hermione said quietly._

Harry just looked at her as he remembered that Hermione's blackmailing of Rita Skeeter was only to last for one year.  One year that was now, well and up.  He looked at Dumbledore.

"It may be a fine idea.  She did prove to be an excellent ally last year.  You two," he nodded at Harry and Hermione, "with her help, were able to do what the Order had been struggling to do for months.  You spread an alternative truth to the rumors spun by the ministry.  Now, I think it can serve to help our job of getting the students safely to Hogwarts and also, _cultivate, a mutually beneficial working relationship with a well-known journalist."_

"She's back working at the Prophet," Hermione said hopefully.

"Fine," said Harry.

Lupin nodded along, saying, "We can arrange to stop there next week when we go out to Diagon Alley to do some longer-distance apparition training."

HARRY POTTER ON THE MINISTRY AND MORE

Is the Ministry Doing Enough?  Will the Students of Hogwarts be Safe?

By Rita Skeeter

In an interview granted with the sole condition that yours truly be the journalist of choice, Harry Potter offered his views on the current climate in the Wizarding World, regarding the recent confirmations that You-Know-Who has returned and is preparing to begin a new campaign to return the nation to a time of fear and uncertainty.  

Potter, otherwise known as The Boy Who Lived, is known as the downfall of YKW from when he was barely a year old.  He also witnessed the rebirth of the YKW over a year ago and tried to spread word of his return, but found himself being attacked by vicious slander and smothered by Ministry silencing.  

Minister Fudge has denied knowledge of Potter's efforts to spread word of YKW's return and faults the defection of several former-Ministry employees to the dark side, as being responsible for the cover-up efforts.  (See related article on page seven, _The Secret Life of a Dark Wizard: An In-Depth Look at Lucius Malfoy and the Signs We Never Noticed_.)

Potter spoke yesterday afternoon while leisurely enjoying an ice cream in Diagon Alley, "There is no place as safe as Hogwarts."  

Indeed, in less than two weeks the Hogwarts Express is set to transport hundreds of young wizards and witches back up north for the next term at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  The Ministry has been scrambling to spread its resources to effectively provide the populace with the tools to defend themselves against dark creatures such as dementors.  One must wonder how the Ministry expects to protect the children of the nation, as they are all grouped together in one small, confined space.

But Potter's not worried:  "I'll be on it, same as every year.  It wouldn't be the start of a new year, if it didn't start at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, says that the tradition of students taking the Express to school is one he intends to maintain.  "We have arranged for several staff members, quite possibly including myself, to make the trip along with the students this year, in addition to several Ministry-provided Aurors.  I would say these are likely unnecessary precautions, but are intended to allay the fears of any students and parents."

When Dumbledore was asked to comment about the Ministry's refusal to believe his and Potter's testimony claiming the return of YKW, Dumbledore evaded the question and only said, "The only regrettable mistake is the one not acknowledged."

Harry scanned the rest of the page.  "It just natters on about how your home was the first to see the Dark Mark in over so many years-guess they forgot about the Quidditch World Cup, eh?"

Hermione looked satisfied as she also scanned the rest of the article and flipped a few pages of the Daily Prophet.  

"Anything good today?  Did the interview with Skeeter get published?"  Lupin slid in next to Harry at the kitchen table and grabbed a plate and began spooning eggs onto it.

"It's here.  Looks good," Hermione answered, not looking up from the paper.  "There's an article here all about Lucius Malfoy.  Interviews with his neighbors and members of the board of trustees for St. Mungos--oh and even some statements from some members of the Hogwarts Board of Governors.  It seems he really never made friends, just bought them."

Harry spoke with a mouthful of bacon, "Reckon Malfoy won't be swaggering quite as much this year."

Lupin turned and said darkly, "You'd be best to watch out for him, this year."

Harry snorted and swallowed his food.  "I watch out for him every year.  I'm more worried about who's going to try to be our next Defense teacher this year.  Any word yet?"

Harry saw a corner of Lupin's mouth quirk up but he only said, "Well, I think Albus may have hinted at someone--but I can't be sure."

Hermione dropped the paper to stare at Lupin.   "Remus!  Come on-- who?"

Harry agreed, "Yeah, don't hold out on us--who?  Is it a member of the Ministry?"

He shook his head.  "I don't know for sure and Albus may have been trying to throw me off the scent, so to speak.  All I can say is--if it's who I think it may be, then you haven't a reason to worry."

"It's you!" Hermione shouted.

Lupin looked genuinely surprised, "Me?  Why would you say that?  You think you'd have nothing to worry about if I were your teacher again?"

Hermione shook her head, her eyes bright with determination that she knew the answer.  "It makes sense.  You said you were only volunteering for the summer at St. Mungos."

"What?"  Harry didn't know about this.  "What are you doing at St. Mungos?"

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione rolled her eyes, "haven't you noticed at all that Remus leaves here at least three or four days a week?  Did you think he was just out for a stroll?"

Harry thought he had been quite busy, thank you very much.  He hadn't really noticed that Remus had been leaving because there always seemed to be someone else ready to give him some new training--and if there wasn't--well then, he was probably just happy to be alone and with Hermione.  "Er, no?"  He turned to Remus, "What are you doing there?"

"Well," he began slowly, "do you remember there was a patient in the same ward as Arthur Weasley last Christmas?  He had been bitten by a werewolf."  Harry nodded.  "Well, when I began to speak with him about his contracting lycanthropy, it became clear that there was little information available to people like him.  St. Mungos had only limited knowledge to how to deal with werewolves as dark creatures.  But even worse, the Ministry would only register you and then give you a list of all the new restrictions and rules you now had to follow.   The Ministry made it quite clear that contracting lycanthropy was a demotion to a second-class citizen.  It was no wonder he had been so depressed after it happened."  Remus set down his fork (stainless steel, not silver) and sighed, "So I volunteered to help build a support group for werewolves, especially for people who were newly infected.  It helps them learn their rights--not just restrictions.  Also, it helps then meet others, like me, who have learned to live with it.   It offers them resources for safe houses they can go to during full moons and suppliers of Wolfsbane Potion.  

"You probably have never realized it due to a lack of competent Defense professors, but most wizards only learn how to recognize and then kill werewolves--not how to help them or live as one.  St. Mungos has been happy to have me help them to build this program."

"Wow," breathed Harry.  "I didn't know you were busy doing all that, too, this summer.  That's great, Remus, really great."

"So," said Hermione, "you sure our next professor will be competent, then?"

Remus rolled his eyes.  "Albus has the authority to name whomever he wants to the position--he isn't telling anyone--even the governors--who it will be before it's time.  I think he wants to make sure there isn't any chance for a repeat of the whole thing with Moody."  

"Moody wouldn't be too bad," mused Harry out loud.  "Although, I'd have to watch for him around nearly every corner then, just waiting to make sure I'm always being _vigilant_."  

"Well, we all should be," Hermione began.

Harry broke in before she got started, "Well, that's all well and good, but sometimes, that eye can see a little too far for my comfort."  He raised his eyes meaningfully at Hermione.

The next week and a half flew by as everyone who had been working with Harry seemed to remember yet something else they wanted to teach him.  He barely had time to polish off his second essay for Snape and could be found spending nearly fourteen hours a day in the Practice Hall.  

As it was the last Friday at Grimmauld Place and the last Order meeting to be held there (they planned to move weekly meetings to Hogwarts after the start of school), Dumbledore had suggested an open Practice Hall training session for any members to attend where they might watch as Harry and Hermione got to display many of their newly honed skills.  

Harry, however, soon found out it was not really so much for him and Hermione as it was for him.  

Tonks had suggested a round robin of dueling, which Harry thought actually sounded like a quite a bit of fun.  "Pink hair won't help you against me, Tonks!" he said.

Dumbledore just smiled and said, "Actually, I had something a little different in mind.   I was thinking,"

"Uh-oh," Harry said.

Dumbledore just smiled, "Perhaps you are ready for some real fun."  Harry was really starting to get an uneasy feeling of dread whenever his damn eyes twinkled like that.  "Harry, go down to that end of the room," He pointed to the far end of the hall.  "The rest, follow me." The others walked to the opposite end of the hall and Dumbledore then called down to Harry, "Now, Harry, all you need to do is cross the room and reach this wall behind us.  Anyway you can.  We will try to stop you."  Dumbledore pointed his wand at the wall and it was struck and infused with a soft blue light.  "You think you are ready, Harry?"  

Harry didn't even nod as he began to think that the odds were stacked way high against him.  _All of them against me?_  _Nearly all fully qualified wizards: one the greatest wizard in the world and the other, only just Hermione?_  _Yeah, no problem…I'll just take 'em all on…_

Dumbledore then waved his wand about the room and the hall was filled with a maze of tall hedges that reminded Harry of the Third Task.

He couldn't help it; he felt a surge of dread upon seeing the maze before him.  He called out in a fearful voice before he could help it, "Er, there aren't any Blast-Ended Skrewts in here, are there?"

He swore he heard Dumbledore chuckle before calling out to answer, "Just us, Harry, just us."

Harry stared at the hedges for a few moments longer and then the open door on his right, out to the hall, caught his eye.  _Hmm, anyway possible, eh? _He had, of course, thought immediately that apparition would help him to cross the room to the wall, but now that seemed too obvious.  _Besides, Dumbledore probably placed an anti-apparition jinx on me and these bloody hedges make it nearly impossible to see or know where I'm going.  _

He decided to test whether he had a jinx on him first, by disapparating out and into the hallway.   He arrived with a 'pop' and immediately saw a startled Moody, jump and fire a hex and him, which he dodged.  

"Damn it Potter! Don't _do_ that! What do you think you're doing out here, eh?"  Moody was looking at him and brandishing his wand.

Harry eyed the wand warily, "Just, er, trying to get down there anyway possible." Harry gestured down the hallway.

"Well, you're supposed to stay in the room!  Get in there now, maybe since you know I'm out here now, I should go on in and help them now, eh?"

That was definitely not what Harry needed: to add another Auror who could see through solid objects.  Harry grumbled and muttered, "Yeah, yeah, if they wouldn't have put up a bloody maze to get through, it wouldn't be so hard, all in there waiting to ambush me…" as he walked back towards the door into the hall.

"Potter," Moody called out, "The maze is to give you a chance to hide from them."  

"Right."  _Well, no point hanging out down here then._  "Point me!" His wand spun in his hand and pointed to the North to give him a reference point.  _The far end wall is exactly north.  Convenient.  He plunged into a corridor of the maze.  _

_Stupid mazes. If I see one giant spider or one skrewt in here, I'm disapparating the hell out_.  He turned left and then right and stopped.  _Think Potter!  If they're looking to stop you, then you've got to know where they are before you see them and before they see you.  _

_Hmm, there was no disapparition jinx on me back there. Let's see if it's still clear._  He looked backwards around the corner from whence he had just come, and disapparated back there.  _Still works_.  _How about just apparating down to the wall?_  He thought about the wall he saw infused with blue light and closed his eyes to disapparate.  He felt a weight upon his arms and shoulders.  _Nope.  A Disapparition jinx hits me if I try that_.  _Okay, so now, if I recall where I began and where I am, then I can disapparate back to these spots, perhaps.  I hope.  We'll see.   _ 

He thought briefly about summoning his invisibility cloak from his room but figured Moody would grab it before he could get it.  He went forward around another corner and paused and listened.  He was thinking he should try to keep against the far side of the maze and not wander all throughout it if he could help it, to try to minimize crossing paths with anyone.  Just then he thought he heard a noise.  _Sounded like a cloak.  Rustling.  Hermione wasn't wearing a cloak; no she had those jeans and that rather tight t-shirt on, the one that looked best lying on the floor in his bedroom…FOCUS.  _He shook his head to make himself concentrate.  He looked up at the hedge separating him from the noise and wished he could see over it. 

_Hmm, if I had a mirror… Definitely no incantations in here.  _He narrowed his eyes and pointed his wand into the air above and concentrated on conjuring a mirror.  A shimmery haze came out of his wand and solidified into a flat mirror that reflected himself.  He kept his wand pointed at the mirror and levitated it over to just above the hedge and he squinted up at its reflection. There, he could see the dark, bald head of Kingsley, staring down at a piece of paper and holding out his wand.  

_They've got maps?  Like the Marauders Map.  Damn.  They're just waiting for me then.   I need a map.  _He was feeling quite frustrated at his increasing disadvantage.  _The maze is there to help you hide.  Well, screw that, I want a map to help me find them.  _He focused on the reflection of the back of Kingsley's head and knew he couldn't ambush him by coming around the corner towards him because he would see him coming on the map.  

He angled the mirror to see the ground behind Kingsley and, not wanting to waste anymore time, Harry focused on the reflection and concentrated on quietly disapparating to the spot directly behind Kingsley, just over the hedge.  As soon as he saw Kingsley's back, Harry called out, _"Stupefy!"_  If they all had maps, there was no point in being quiet to hide from them.  He only felt triumph for a second before he heard the mirror come crashing to the floor on the side of the hedge where he had been.  _Oops.  Forgot to hover that._  

He turned back quickly then to Kingsley, stunned on the ground, summoned his wand, and the map, and bound him there.  Harry then checked the map, only to see it was now blank.  _Damn!  _He pocketed it, along with Kingsley's wand and went quickly forward and made two more turns.  He figured it would take a few moments for someone else to come over towards him.  

He stopped and then strained to listen.  _Nothing.  Well that last mirror worked well.  As long as I don't forget about it let it crash to bits.  _He pointed his wand and conjured another.  He levitated it up above his head and then just over the hedge before him.  _Nothing_.  He went forward and kept the mirror levitated above him.  

_A Perimeter Charm!  _He summoned the conjured mirror back to his hand and then paused to point his wand to erect the charm, but then frowned, he couldn't se where he needed to erect it.  _Damn, if I could keep the mirror up there while I erect it though…animate it and control it-- that's it!_

He pulled out the mirror and whispered, _"Vigoro Imperio."_  

_Go and rise up and stay in the air to reflect the area around me.  _He concentrated to send his command to the mirror.  

He looked at the corridors around him and knew he had to hurry as he saw Kingsley begin to stir.  "_Divellipromtus_." He said the charm under his breath and traced a circle in the air above him.  He saw a gold ripple expand out from his wand and around the area he had imagined to enchant.  

_There.  Now, I'll know if I'm close to anyone.  _He looked back up at the mirror and wondered if he could expand it to se where anyone else was now.   Slowly the mirror began to grow and widen.   He began to work his way forward a few turns, taking advantage of no one being near him.  He could see no one else but Kingsley struggling with his binding ropes.  He renewed the command on the mirror and then held his wand loosely in hand and whispered, "Point me." His wand spun to point forward and he knew he was headed in the right direction. 

He looked back up and now saw Hermione navigating turns and heading towards his location.  He could also see her looking down at what must be another map.  He saw her pause as he held very still and watched the reflection of the top of her head.  _If I could spend a spell at the mirror and deflect a spell to hit her, like that Volley Wall charm…_ He pointed his wand at the hovering mirror and commanded it to act as a Volley Wall charm.  _I have no bloody idea if this will work.  _He kept his wand aimed at the mirror and muttered, "_Stupefy"_ and thought, _now reflect that spell down onto her.  _

He watched the red light strike the mirror with a _"thunk!"_ and then saw Hermione's head disappear and heard a _"thump!"_

He then saw a jet of light shot towards his conjured mirror from far over his mirror vanished as the light hit it. _Well, someone didn't like my mirror. Meanies.  I better go to Hermione while I can and get her map and tie her up.  Hmm, tie her up… Potter--FOCUS!_

He made the two turns and found Hermione stunned on the ground with the map still clutched in her hand.  The map, he saw now, was still active.   He lifted it from her hand and saw the maze and dots fade away.  _What the…?  Maybe they have to touch it?_  He put it back on the ground touching her hand and watched the lines reappear and saw the two dots labeled _Harry Potter_ and _Hermione Granger.  _He scanned the maze for Dumbledore but couldn't see his dot anywhere.  Kingsley looked now to be back at the end of the hall where Harry had started and seemed to be heading out into the hallway.  Harry watched him disappear off the map. 

He then saw two new dots appear, _Nymphadora Tonks_ and _Bill Weasley_.    

_They're adding people, a few at a time!  And Bill--oh bugger, no fair!  _

Harry looked at the map and felt he could stay there and see who was where, but not make any progress or he could hurry up and try to get to the other end before more and people showed up. He looked up at the top of the hedge and saw that they were really only about seven feet tall.  The ceiling in the hall was nearly sixteen feet tall and Harry thought he could probably see the other end and how close he was if he got atop the hedge. 

He apparated quickly to the top of the hedge and saw he was more than halfway to the end of the hall, in the direction he wanted to go.  He then heard Bill's voice, "He's gone!" followed by some mumbling.  

Then her heard Tonks call out, "Moody!! He's left the room!  Get his buttocks back in here!"

Harry scanned the tops of the hedges and couldn't see anyone, but could see that both doors to the hallway were open and as he made to disapparate to the target wall, he suddenly felt the hedge begin to melt down to the ground.  "Ergh!" he said as he landed back on the ground gracelessly.

"Nevermind, he's back!"  Harry heard Tonks call out and he looked back at the map touching Hermione's hand.  Tonks and Bill were both weaving steadily closer and he then saw Hermione stir a hand.  He pointed his wand at Hermione, "_Incarcerous_" and then stunned her again.  Harry looked back at the map and wondered what they would do if he just stayed put.  He looked about him at the hedges surrounding him and back at the map.  

_They're only a few rows away. _He tried to conjure another mirror and hover it up but as soon as it rose above the hedges, it was struck with a silver light and vanished_.  No more mirrors._

He could swear he heard Tonks snickering and he clenched his jaw and looked around again.  He saw on the map that Tonks and Bill had split up and were simultaneously edging closer and closer and meaning to trap him where he was.  From his vantage point he could see the u-bends around which they would each have to come and, with a burst of inspiration, he cast Volley Wall Charms on each of the hedge walls at the turns.  _That's it, now when I see them on the map coming towards that hedge, then I can stun them from here.  _Harry felt a prickle and figured it was the Perimeter Charm being breached. He checked down at the map again and saw Tonks about to come around the corner that would put her facing the same hedge he had just enchanted.  He sent a blinding hex at the enchanted hedge and watched it ricochet with glee.  He then heard Tonks, "_Protego_" and saw the hex coming back towards him.   He ducked to the ground and it sailed over his head and singed the hedge behind him.  

With a burst of inspiration, he conjured a mirror on that singed hedge and then cast another Volley Wall charm over it.  He stood carefully so he could see his own reflection in the mirror, as well as the other two active Volley Wall charms.  Out of the corner, to his reflected right side, he saw Bill appear and then stop as he spotted (or thought he spotted) Harry.  

Harry waved impishly and Bill sent an unknown curse towards him.  Harry just kept grinning as the curse rebounded off of the mirrored hedge to strike the Volley Wall charm and then ricocheted again to, he guessed, strike Tonks.  (The sounds of a few muttered swear words and a yelp, followed by a 'thump!' let him think she was out for the moment.)

Harry then spotted the map on the ground at Hermione's hand again.  He saw that Charlie and McGonagall (!) were fast approaching to where Tonks had been.  

Another flash of light out of the corner of his eye, alerted him Bill had sent another curse, which only repeated the ricocheting action that same as the first.  Harry quickly fired a retaliatory hex back at Bill.  When he saw Bill begin to stalk closer to inspect why the Harry he was seeing was seemingly just deflecting his curses, Harry animated the hedge to reach out and hold Bill back.  

While Bill struggled with a groping hedge, Harry quickly enchanted the mirror to maintain his reflection and, with a quick look at the map to gain his location and an open area, disapparated a few rows forward.  

"Damn!  He moved!"  Harry could hear Charlie, who must have been watching the map.  

Before he had to worry about him, though, he heard Bill, "Charlie?  Over here--he's still over here.  The maps lie--or something.  Help me, will ya?"

Harry snickered as he hoped the hedge was getting really frisky with Bill.  

_All right, time for some new ideas_.  "Point me," he whispered to confirm his progress.  Okay, now, to cut through these hedges… Harry conjured up a large sword.  He had been thinking of a machete of some sort but the long sword--  

"Hold on," Harry stared down at the sword he had conjured before him.  Two things stood out:  one, it was the silver sword of Godric Gryffindor, and two, it was now in his wand hand and he was longer holding his wand.  _Odd_…

He heard another noise and felt the tickle of the perimeter charm.  _Feels like McGonagall--rather stiff_.  He drew the sword before him and, with a stray thought that he might have tried his Reductor Curse on the hedges, he brought the sword down to slice through the hedge.  

It melted away.  In its wake, a clean, wide path now cut through the hedge.  Harry pointed at the next and wondered how many he had to go through to reach the wall.  _Is my wand in the sword?  How can I do a Point Me spell?_  As if in answer, Harry heard a rising chorus of heartening voices in his mind.   Without words, they encouraged him to point the sword at the hedges between him and his goal of the wall, and then imagine them all melting away, leaving a clear path to the wall.  

With a flame of red from the tip of the sword, the hedges seemed to be burned away, leaving, just as he had imagined, a clear path to the wall.  

With a strange feeling, like he had just broken a rule or cheated, he quickly took a few steps forward, and saw McGonagall, looking slightly unsettled off to his left, but nonetheless, had reacted and sent a stunning curse at him.  

He automatically raised his wand arm (now holding the sword) to erect a shield spell and watched the spell deflect back at McGonagall, who, upon seeing the curse reflected by his use of a sword and not a wand, was too stricken to deflect it.  

Harry, thinking he ought to get a move on, took off down the new corridor to the wall and seemed to arrive at the target wall as quickly as if he had apparated.  As he slammed into it, huffing and breathing heavily, he felt the wall glow again with blue light and then heard the hedges behind him disappear with a small, 'pop!'.  As he caught his breath, Harry looked down, expecting to see the sword still clutched in his hand; it was now his wand again.  

He looked up to see Dumbledore striding towards him, twinkling.  "Excellent, Harry.  Absolutely Excellent!"  Harry just stared back, slightly stunned (though less so than McGonagall who was still lying prone on the ground). 

Fred came rushing over from the hallway. "Hey!  It can't be done!"

"We had a whole load of WhizBangs to let off in there!"  That would be George.

"Make him do it again!"  

"Yeah!  No fair--whoa!  _Look at Bill and Charlie!"_

Harry saw that both Bill and Charlie were lying in a heap together, covered in boils and a few stray--"Er, are those, _horns_ on them?" he asked incredulously.

Suddenly, Tonks was storming towards Harry with an uneven gait and she seemed to be stopping every few steps to, well, er, _to adjust herself_.  "_Potter_!  Damn you!! I'll have your buttocks on a plate for this curse!!!  What the hell was that and better yet, take it the hell off!!! Now!"    

Harry was slightly frightened of her and backed away.  Moody was strolling over now and looked at her, "So, what, ah, seems to be the problem, there?"

Tonks whirled on him, itched herself again, and said, "The _problem_ seems to be some curse he picked up from _lord_ knows where that's got my pink bits a' screaming!"  

"It wasn't me!" Harry defended quickly.

Tonks looked furious, "Wasn't you, eh?  I saw you--grinning and waving at me!! After you'd done it!"  She looked him up and down.  "How come you don't have any boils on you?  Or--"

"Horns!! Who in the world gave my boys horns on their faces!!  Oh no!"  Mrs. Weasley was on the ground, kneeling beside Bill and Charlie and wailing as Mr. Weasley and Lupin looked over her shoulder amusedly.

"Horns?"  Tonks whirled to look at them, then whirled back to Harry and narrowed her eyes; "I sent that curse at you!  In thanks for _this_--" she made an indecent show of herself as she itched in fury, "--_bloody effing curse!"_

Harry, beginning to understand, struggled not to smirk as he pointed at Bill and said, "Mirrors, angles, Volley Wall Charm--he did it."

Harry felt sorry for Bill as Tonks went stomping off towards him (albeit slowly as she had to stop and itch herself every few steps) but soon lost all sympathy as he realized that whatever she was suffering from had been meant for him.  

The last meeting held at Grimmauld Place was off to a festive start.  Dumbledore had conjured a large table into the Practice Hall after Harry conquered the maze and Winky and Dobby had quickly provided a small feast for everyone.  

Everyone who was there had been able to watch replays of Harry's trip through the maze, as seen on one of the enchanted maps.  You could only see people as dots as they moved, tiny flashes of light as spells were cast, and then see dots fade away to a light gray when a person had been stunned or subdued, but everyone enjoyed watching it.  

Harry still had not told anyone about the sword and it acting as a wand and had shrugged off several questions about how he cut though the last five remaining hedges.  The twins had guessed it was the same type of Reductor Curse that had brought down the painting of Mrs. Black.  Harry was not inclined to correct them.  He avoided McGonagall's inquisitive looks whenever the question was raised.

Bill had performed the counter-course on Tonks and she promptly turned him into a garden gnome.  McGonagall remarked it was an excellent bit of transfiguration as the gnome ran around, following Tonks, begging to be changed back.  Until, that is, the twins and Charlie decided to try and throw him like a real garden gnome.  Harry still wasn't feeling too bad for Bill, even when Mrs. Weasley stepped in to prevent the twins from tying Bill The Garden Gnome to Hedwig so as to send him as a gift to Fleur.  

"You did really well tonight, Harry," Hermione whispered as she leaned in to Harry's ear. "Mr. Weasley told me earlier that they won't be coming to stay for the last few days of holiday.  He said Ron was feeling ill and didn't want to spread it around.  It'll just us until we go back to school."  She left him to think on this as she got up and went over to speak to some other members.

Harry was still stuck on what she had said, several minutes later.  They had been so tired as of late, that they seemed to be almost half-hearted in their attempts to 'do their part against Voldemort'.  (Snape still had not returned to tell then if it had been working and Harry was hoping he might have disappeared for good and wouldn't return for the school year.)  At night, Harry and Hermione had begun talking (in a roundabout, awkward, teenage way) about how far they should go.  Harry knew pretty much what he wanted (duh) but also knew Hermione well enough to know he ought to appear to have given it much thought and deliberation.  

He had been hoping that maybe, the night before, being their last night essentially alone and all, might just be the night.  However, after Dumbledore warned them Thursday that they would do a small demonstration thing for the other members the next day, they had practiced until late and they were nearly too tired to even change out of their practice clothes.  

Now, with three more nights together, the possibilities seemed a lot brighter.

That is, until a dark cloud billowed in through the door and caused more than half the people to stop and stare.  

As the twins had snagged a bottle of Firewhiskey and had been taking swigs on the sly along with Mundungus Fletcher, Fred was well ripped and thought he knew how to greet his greasy, former potions master, "Severus Snape you sexy bitch!"

~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~

It's an old Severitus challenge to try to work that last line into a fic and, although I never really set out to fit it in, it just sort of jumped right out of Fred's pissed mouth.  Funny how those things happen, eh?   

In the next chapter you find out who the next DADA professor will be, just how far Harry and Hermione will go/have gone, any new prefects and changes to who had been a prefect, where that raunchy (and oh so curious) book actually came from, and we should finally arrive at Hogwarts for the start of term.  Oh yeah, and just for good measure, Dumbledore will twinkle.  Again.  (Snape will probably sneer, too.)


	20. Chapter 23 Rites of Passage

Author's Note:  This chapter contains material rated **R**--for Raging hormones and for Real sex.  There is material contained within this chapter of a sexual nature and if you can't handle that, please go read a G or PG-rated fic.  Harry and Hermione are 16 (going on 17 for Hermione) and they've been sharing a bed for nearly a month.  There's going to be some…er. .well…."Rites of Passage" in this chapter!  Please don't' complain to FF.net if you have a problem--email me if you take issue and explain why.

Also, some have commented on the whole lying to Ron and the Weasley's thing:  Recall that Harry and Hermione had only just first kissed on his birthday and decided to try to date later that night after his party when Ron and family had just arrived.  They were still fledgling in this relationship and were still getting the feel of it without having to try to explain it someone else.  The Weasleys were only at Grimmauld Place for about 4 days before Mrs. W left in a huff when she assumed that Ginny had been being a "scarlet woman" around Harry and she wanted to get them apart to avoid a new brood of weaslets.  It happened quickly and Harry's was at the mercy of Ginny and Hermione's pleas to go with this for now.  Hey-- he is a 16-year-old boy and if you recall, when the whole thing was spun, it was Ginny who said it and then promptly shut Harry up and stunned him into a prolonged silence by kissing him.  Poor boy.  He never had a chance.   

Chapter 23 Rites of Passage

"Severus Snape, you sexy bitch!"

Shocked silence was an understatement.  It felt like at least a half-minute before a loud, 'thud!' broke the silence.  (Apparently George fell off his chair.)  Harry became aware of a hand tightly gripping his arm as he stared, slack-mouthed, at Snape who, although frozen in place at the greeting, still managed to make his robes billow.  Harry watched in horrified shock as Snape's head drew back and, with a haughty toss of his greasy locks, seemed to sneer as if to say, "It's about time someone noticed."  

Harry became aware that something was shaking him and after ruling out the end of the world apocalypse, realized it was Remus, gripping his arm in a futile attempt to hold back from, Harry guessed, either spewing or riotous laughter.  

It turned out to be the latter, and Remus wasn't alone.  The jovial mood of the night returned with fury as nearly no one could hold back after realizing Snape was not going to cast an Unforgivable at Fred (yet).  Harry was still dazed.  _I'm going to be blamed for this somehow.  _I just know it_.  __I can't believe that the words 'Snape' and 's-' –no!  I can't even think it!  They don't belong in the same sentence!  _

"Oh," Remus was finally managing words now, "Harry!  I've never—oh, ho!  Merlin—I've never _ever missed James and Sirius so much as right now—they would've sold their wands to see that!"  Remus was having troubling managing to sit up, laugh, breathe and talk, all at the same time and was still holding on to Harry's arm to help with the remaining upright part.  "They'd both rush out an buy pensieves just so they could put that memory in there and relive it over and over—and to show it to everyone else!"_

Harry, still riveted to watching Snape, saw him turn and lock eyes with him, his lip curling into a sneer—or was that—no, a smile?  _Oh god, it **is** the end of the world!_

"I'm so sorry," Snape began in a silky voice that made Remus begin to snigger even more, "to interrupt this little—_fest of joviality—I had been under the impression that a meeting of the Order might have been in progress?"  He ended in a question, as if expecting an excuse for their deviation from his expectations._

"Severus," Albus, twinkling with mirth, was beside Snape, "so good to finally see you.  Would you care to join us?"

Snape surveyed the room, his dark gaze falling upon Remus who was sent, yet again, into twitters, and sneered, "I think not.  I do, however, sir, have _business to discuss."  He gave Dumbledore a significant look._

Dumbledore caught Harry's eye and motioned towards the door, "Harry?"  

After a moment, Harry realized he was to follow them for this discussion of business.  Harry walked over, much to Snape's obvious disdain, and then followed them both out of the Practice Hall and down and into the library.

"You have news for us, Severus?" Dumbledore asked as he lit a fire and conjured a third armchair, which Snape, merely, glanced at, and did not use.

"Yes, sir, indeed."  Snape raked a look over Harry one might normally reserve for a mating pair of flobberworms, and said, "It seems, my Lord is seeking to implement a new plan and has sent me to return with specific instructions, of which, I have been instructed to tell you.  It is my belief, at this time, that his true and overall intents are to be withheld from my full knowledge."

"Your _Lord?"_ Harry inquired, incredulously as he leaned forward in his armchair.

Snape bristled and looked down his hooked nose at Harry who glared back.  He rolled his eyes, "Potter, I have spent approximately a fortnight in the Dark Lord's presence, how exactly do you think I've been addressing him during that time, hmm?"  He turned back to Dumbledore, who seemed relieved to not have to break up an argument between the two already.  "Albus, I was really rather hoping for an _intelligent_, discussion, perhaps, on this matter?"

Harry scowled at the implication of his lacking intelligence and Dumbledore spoke with a hint of warning, "Severus, you know as well as anyone the reasons for Harry's presence and involvement.  These same reasons," he looked at Harry then and back to Snape, "require that the both of you learn to work together, for the sake of a common goal.  Now, you were saying Severus?"

Snape straightened himself, refusing to look contrite for even a brief moment, and said, "It is his wish, sir, that I watch Potter, and report back to him of the skills, which he does possess.  The skills and abilities to defend himself." He glanced at Harry, appearing slightly uneasy, and continued, in a lower voice, "It was his instruction, sir, for me to inform you that _my instructions had been to gain the vacant position of Professor of Defence for this next term, at any cost.  Sir."  _

Harry felt a twinge of amusement, watching Snape discuss the position he had coveted for several years now, but had always been refused.  Harry turned eagerly to see Dumbledore's reaction.

He was templing his long fingers beneath his chin and staring intently at Snape.  "Voldemort wishes for you to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts this year?"  Snape nodded, with a slight grimace at the name.  "He wishes for you to watch Harry in this class and then report back to him?" Snape nodded again.  "Hmm," Dumbledore contemplated.

"Why?" Harry asked.  He wondered if Snape weren't making it up just to finally get the job.  

Snape narrowed his eyes, as if about to formulate a sarcastic remark upon Harry's lacking intelligence again.  Before he could speak, Dumbledore mused, "Why indeed, Harry. It's the first question we must ask whenever Lord Voldemort seeks any action or knowledge.  What say he on his missing servants, Severus?"

Snape seemed disappointed in the change of subject but answered, "He has been attempting to communicate with them or reach them through the Mark."  He rubbed his own left forearm, as if recalling pain.  "He has concluded that they must not be anywhere on the Isle. However, he believes he may have located someone else—Karkaroff, I believe.   He seems to have plans for him."

"He is able to feel the presence of those bearing the Mark?"  Dumbledore asked quietly.

Snape nodded, "Yes, he told me directly that the Mark, taken willingly, binds a wizard to him for better or worse.  He said he would use it to track those taken from him, as well as those who would flee."  

Dumbledore nodded again, "So he wishes you to remain placed here and gain a new position from which, to observe Harry.  Tell me, Severus, is it your belief that he fully trusts you once again?"  Dumbledore peered intently over his half-moon glasses at Snape, who seemed taken aback at the frank question.

"Well, sir, I –I am not ever truly sure of that.  I am not sure how much he ever trusted myself, nor anyone else, in the first place.  I believe," he paused and Harry noted, was holding Dumbledore's gaze, "that he trusts me to do what I am instructed to do.  I know he wishes me to play you and maintain my appearance as your spy—he knows and wishes me to tell you of my instructions.  So, his true plans, sir, I believe I am not meant to know at this point—meaning, I venture, that no—he does not fully trust me. Then again, I do not believe he tells any one servant all his plans."

Harry was amazed to realize the very many layers of duplicity that Snape had to wear in his role.  Both Voldemort and Dumbledore believed him to be their spy, while each knew the other, believed the same.  Snape, Harry knew, as a master Occlumens, would be able to hide his true thoughts, beliefs, and loyalties to either or both, as he wished.  It seemed, Harry thought, that no one but Snape himself, could truly know on which side his loyalties truly lay.    

"Well," Dumbledore sighed, "I think it may be best, for now, to go along with this and bide our time until his plans might become more plain."

"But," Harry interjected, slightly panicked, "we can't go another year with a Defense teacher who does nothing!"  He saw (even felt) the flare up of fury from Snape and quickly added, "No—I mean, he can't _want Sn--, er, Professor Snape to actually teach the course, can he?  He must be thinking like Fudge—that he wants someone to make sure we __don't get a real education!"  Snape's anger was not abating much.  "The fewer people who can defend themselves, the easier a job he'd have!  He must want to control what you be teaching us?"  _

Dumbledore chimed in before Snape could muster a reply, "Has he given an instruction as the content of your teachings?"

Snape looked back and forth, from Harry to Dumbledore and then back to Harry.  "No, he has not."

Harry's mouth snapped shut; he didn't know what to make of it.  Dumbledore merely nodded, "A test perhaps, for you then.  No matter, I had already prepared the lessons to be taught for this year myself.  You will use these, Severus.  The official story you may tell him, if necessary, is that I was unable to secure anyone for the position, given its reputation.  You may tell him that I had planned on teaching the course myself and therefore, had the plans prepared in advance and your using and adherence to them, was a condition of your getting the position."  

Dumbledore then turned to Harry, "This will mean we have a rather last minute vacancy for professor of Potion making.  What do you think, Harry, the student reaction to this change will be?"

Harry muttered immediately, "Potions will improve dramatically." 

Snape scowled and Dumbledore smiled.  "I will work out the details later.  Before we return to the meeting tonight, and we do have one thing to cover in the meeting, Severus, can you tell us if Voldemort suffered any visions from Harry, or felt the connection between them yet again?"

Snape considered it for only a moment, and answered, "I do not believe so."

Harry's heart fell.  _So much for snogging to conquer the Dark Lord_.  He heard Dumbledore ask Snape to meet them in the Practice Hall in a few moments.

"Harry?"  He turned to see Dumbledore watching him with a twinkle.  "I think it possible that Voldemort's focus upon seeking the location of his servants, may have kept his mind busy and blocked your connection these past few weeks.  It is still possible, it might work."  Harry gave him a brief smile, embarrassed his disappointment had shown so obviously. 

They returned to the Practice Hall, where people were still feasting and the bottle of Firewhiskey was now out upon the table.  Harry grabbed a seat beside Hermione and couldn't help a grin as he entertained the idea of having to tell her they would just have to continue and try harder.  

"What's happening?  Can you—"

"If I might have your attention, please!"  Dumbledore was standing at the head of the table and holding up his hands for a plea of silence.  Finally the noise dropped and only the sound of Fred and George's occasional hiccupping could be heard.  "Thank you.  Now, There has been little actual business discussed thus far tonight, does anyone have anything to bring up?"  No one spoke and Dumbledore nodded.  "In case some of you are not aware, Emmeline's committee, dedicated to ensuring safety of the Hogwarts Express, received an overwhelming response back from parents, almost all in favor of their children riding the Express.  It has also been confirmed by the responses that indeed, several select students, with family ties to Death Eaters are also to be aboard the train.   There is no news on this from you, Severus, is there?"  Snape shook his head.  "Very well, then.  With the precautions we have prepared, I believe we have little to be worried about."  

Emmeline Vance caught Harry's eye and mouthed a, "thank you," to him.  He knew she meant his interview had helped allay public concerns, allowing her department avoid an overload of portkeys to arrange.  

"Also," Dumbledore continued, "Hermione has been working on a project this summer which shall enable greater ease and efficiency of brief communications between members of the Order, as well as facilitate rapid mobilization in an emergency event.  Hermione—if you would?"  He gestured for her to come up.  

Harry had almost forgot about this.  She had had most of the work done last year really, and only been perfecting it for use by the Order this summer.  

Hermione drew out a small coin purse and began walking about and handing out a Galleon to each person.  "These are fake Galleons, so please do not spend them.  They have been enchanted—Fred and George this should look quite familiar to you."

"Can we spend the ones from DA yet, 'Mione?" Fred asked, teetering precariously to one side on his chair.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I said they were fake—that really wouldn't be very good.  You can give it back, though?"  Fred pretended not to hear and Harry concluded he would try to spend it somewhere.  "Anyway, these coins will all serve to be a means of communication between each of us—from one person to everyone else.  

"If you look carefully at the roman numerals on the edge of the coin, which is normally just a serial number, those numbers will change upon a message being sent.  They will change to show the apparating coordinates of whomever sent the message.  The message–only a few words--will flash on the face of the coin when you tap it with your wand and do a revealing charm."

"How will we know if there is a new message?" Mr. Weasley asked, turning over the coin, fascinated.

"Gets warm," answered George.  "Right?"

Hermione nodded, "Right.  Keep it in your pocket.  A when the numbers—coordinates on the coin change, it grows warm—then you know to take it out and reveal the message.  Now," Hermione was biting her lip, unsure, "this is the part that seems to be slightly iffy—I had intended for the coins to be able to also identify on the them from who the message was sent, however, this greatly increases the enchantment load upon the item.  But, when I was working on it and asking Harry and Remus to help me try it out, I seemed to get a distinctly different feel from each of them—I think it's possible, there might be distinct feelings for each person who might activate them.  We'll have to find out."

Snape was looking at his carefully, handling it gingerly.  "Protean Charm?"

Hermione blinked, knowing he was thinking of the other Protean Charm he already carried around with him everywhere.  "Yes, it is."  Harry could see she was apprehensive as to what Snape's scathing comment would be.

Snape sniffed and said, "Yes, you should feel a different twinge for everyone who sets it off."

Harry imagined it was the same with the Dark Marks on the Death Eaters arms; that when one was used to summon the rest, they could tell whose was being used to do the summoning—if they knew it well enough.

Mrs. Weasley hurriedly cast sobering charms on the twins, as well as Mundungus, so they could remember what they learned and they went around the room and everyone practiced using the coins.  Sure enough, they got to feel a slightly different twinge for everyone who set it off.  Harry thought it was kind of neat and could already recognize some people as they gave the same twinge when they set off a Perimeter Charm.  Moody also noted this.  

"That went well, don't you think?" Harry asked Hermione as they cleared away the remaining dishes from the Practice Hall.  

"Mmm," Hermione said as she vanished the table and chairs.  

"Those Galleons are great.  Did you notice Dumbledore felt a bit like a twinkle?  I didn't even know a twinkle had a feeling, but I guess it does."  No answer.  "Don't you want to know what Snape had to say?"

When Hermione spun and looked at him with such eagerness, he laughed out loud.  "You really think I'm not going to tell you these things?"  He rolled his eyes and mimicked her voice,  "_Honestly_—Hermione!"

She screwed up her face and made to swat him, but Harry was too fast and dodged her and then ducked out the hall and into his room, laughing.  

"So?" she demanded as she followed him and flopped down on the sofa near the fire.  

Harry lit the fire and dropped down onto the rug in front of the fire and leaned back on his elbows. "So—what?"

Hermione pointed her wand at him and shot out a few sparks at him.

"Ok!! Ow!! Damn!"  Harry rubbed his arm where her sparks had hit.  "Blimey—you might damage me or something."

Hermione snorted, "Damage you?  As if!"

Harry muttered, "I'm delicate."  

"Delicate!"  She snorted again, "_That_—you are not, Harry Potter!  Now, quit stalling and _spill_."

Harry laid back, made a show of reaching for the button on his jeans and said resignedly, "All right, you going to lend me a hand again?"

Hermione kicked at his elbow and pointed her wand at him again, "Potter…" she said warningly.

Laughing, Harry said, "Well, I know who the new Defense professor will be."

Hermione sobered quickly, "Who?" and slid down onto the floor beside Harry.

"Guess."

"Remus?"

"Nope."

"Dumbledore?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Er, hmm."  Then Hermione gasped, "No!"

"Yup."

"No way!" she smacked him on the chest, as she looked suitably shocked.

Harry nodded, figuring only the truth could be this terrifying.  "I'm afraid it's true."

Hermione squealed and threw her arms around Harry.  "Oh!! Harry!! That's _so great!  I was wondering…  Oh!" Harry was finding her squeals to be a little too close to some kind of happy feeling and began to think perhaps she really didn't realize just whom he had meant._

"Er," he tried to speak but she suddenly began to kiss him and he promptly told his mouth to shut up and kiss her back.

She broke away finally, gasping and smiling, and said, "Oh, Harry, I know you'll be great!"    

"You do realize I am talking about Snape, don't you?" Harry asked, not understanding her last comment.

The sudden change in the look on her face was so drastic, it was downright humorous.

"Guess not, then," Harry said.  "So who did you think it—oh, _me?  Er, now_ you're raving!"__

"Snape?" she asked in a small voice.  "You're sure?"

Harry nodded dolefully and explained what Snape had all said after returning and Dumbledore's decision to go along for now.

"You realize, Harry, we should probably plan on doing the DA again this year, then?"  Hermione said when he had finished recounting.

"Why's that?  Snape would kill me if he thought I was trying to go around him—he nearly did when I insinuated he wouldn't teach us anything under orders from Voldemort."

"But that's just it—everyone in school knows how you and Snape get along—or, rather—don't.  It would seem only natural for you to suspect him as being a Death Eater now and to go behind his back and continue with our group.  In fact, Dumbledore might even ask that we do it—we wouldn't want to seem too trusting of Snape, not when people like Malfoy think they know whose side he's on."

Harry really had been thinking about wanting to do the DA again this next year as he had been learning so many new things, he was quite eager to begin to teach others.  However, he had thought he should at least wait to see whom the next teacher was before planning to go on around them.  Now, with it being Snape, Harry was quite keen on the idea.

"Yeah, I think you're right, Hermione.  I'll ask Dumbledore about it; he'll be over Sunday."  Harry folded his arms behind his head as his mind began planning out lessons.

Hermione rolled over onto her stomach then, and placed a hand on Harry's chest and began to fiddle with the collar of his shirt.  "So," she began, drawing Harry's thoughts back into the present, "any word on whether _our _efforts_ have been paying off?"  _

Harry was yet again, amazed how the mere tone of her voice, could instantly alter the seeming direction and rate of blood flow in his body.  

"Well," he said, "actually Dumbledore reckons that with Voldemort being so focused on tracking the missing Death Eaters, that he was also blocking out any connection to me.  But," Harry moved one hand from the back of his head, around now to smooth back Hermione's hair on one side of her face, "he did say that we might keep on trying."  

Hermione leaned down and cupped his face as she lowered her mouth to his.  The kiss was slow and gentle.  Harry broke it off and said, "He recommended you show me that book."

Hermione froze and stared at Harry.  She blinked twice and muttered sounding like, "…been back...week."

Harry was very interested in this new reaction to his bringing up The Book.  Usually she had ignored him completely or denied any knowledge of which he spoke.  "What was that?" he asked, trying to hide a grin.

Hermione was decidedly not meeting his eyes, as she pulled away and sat up, she muttered again, still incoherent. 

Harry decided to take matters into his own hands and, in a flash, pulled her to him, rolled over atop her, pinning her against the ground and gave short tickles to her ribs, making her shriek.   Harry lowered his head and gave her a stern look.  "I'm afraid you're going to have speak more clearly, Ms. Granger.  I don't believe I heard you the first two times—now what was that?"

Hermione raised her chin in defiance and, as much as Harry loved when she played hard to get like this, he loved breaking her down even more so he tickled her again, getting her ribs beneath her shirt, for a good half-minute.  

"Stop!" she gasped out.  "Stop!"

"Ready to speak?" he asked and when she hesitated again, he tightened the grip his legs had around hers, making her squirm, knowing she wouldn't be able to fend off another tickle attack.

"It's back!  I returned it!"

"Huh?"  His hold on her slackened and she took advantage of his momentary lapse by pushing him off of her and jumping up off the floor.  

"I said," she taunted, out of his reach, "I already returned it.  I don't have it anymore."

Harry jumped up, apparated to just behind Hermione and grabbed her around the waist and then spoke in her ear, "What do you mean you returned it?  To where?"

She spun around in his arms and faced him.  Using a look she had perfected over the past month, designed and tested, it seemed, to specifically and purposefully derail any and all off Harry's thoughts, she answered innocently, "Why of course, to where I got it from."  

Harry, just barely managing to hold on to his ability to think as he watched her lower lip be worried by her teeth and then, alternately, be soothed by he tongue, inquired weakly, "And, er, where, did you, er, yes, where'd you get it, ah, from?"

Hermione pressed in tighter against him, teasing him by just ghosting her lips over his.  "You," she answered breathily. "I got it from you—it was on your bookshelf," she said, pointing across the room at the shelves on Harry's wall. Harry turned sceptically to glance at the shelves and then back, expecting to lean in and capture her teasing mouth, but was left holding nothing but thin air as Hermione had disapparated from his arms.  

He heard her voice call out from somewhere outside his room, "I'm heading for a nice long hot bath--have fun!"

 Harry was still numb and desperately sorting through a myriad of emotions:  the anticipation that quite possibly, the book was right in his room and his to look at finally, the arousal from the idea of Hermione about to get naked and wet in the bathroom, and the utter feeling of emptiness and vacancy, with which her sudden and unexpected disapparition from his arms, had just left him.  

The latter one won out as he began to fill with a mounting despair, brought on by an irrational panic from a rapidly replaying and ever-increasing feeling of loss.  He had just been holding the most wonderful feeling in the world and been happy--really and truly happy--only to have that feeling vanish from his very arms leaving him with a gaping void and an enveloping fear of loneliness.  He found himself reflexively hurrying out of his room, down the hall, and rapping on her door.

"Yes—" Hermione answered the door in her dressing gown and was immediately engulfed by Harry in an embrace.

"Don't _do_ that!" he insisted as he held her fiercely; trying to make sure she filled every empty place he had ever felt.  "Don't—ever—do—that!"  His words were choppy as he buried his face into her shoulder and neck.  "Disapparating like that—don't—it's—the most _awful_, _empty feeling—"  _

He couldn't feel her presence enough nor hold her tight enough.  He could feel burning tears in his eyes and he didn't even care.  "Just _don't_ leave me—like that—_ever_," he choked out as she was holding him just as tight now, one hand stroking the hair on the back of neck to soothe him.  

"Oh," she whispered.  "I'm so sorry."

"I can't—" he nearly sobbed as he shuddered.  In one moment he had experienced just a mere fraction of the loss that actually losing her could cause him to suffer.  It overwhelmed to know that although he was fully aware it was still a silly overreaction that he still had not the power to control it.  

He realized she could surely feel his tears on her skin and he still didn't care.  He had to have her know how much she meant to him, how it would crush him to ever lose her.  "You don't—" His mind failed to offer words that might truly convey his needs.  

"Shh," she said and backed up, still holding him tight, into her room.

"God, _Hermione_—" he was shaking as he held her.

"Harry, I'm here." He gave a sob and sniffed.  "I'm not going anywhere."  Hermione's voice was tremulous now, as she was moved by his intensity.

Harry sniffed again and turned his head to rub his forehead against her neck, feeling his own tears on her.  He moved to kiss away his tears from her neck and tasted their salt upon his lips.  He kissed her jaw and still felt his need to make her feel _real to him as she gently removed his glasses and kissed the corner of his eye.  He opened his eyes to look into her caring brown ones and as he moved up to kiss her lips, he heard it in his head: _I love you_.  He was sure the words would have came out of his very own mouth if it hadn't, just at that very moment, touched to kiss hers.  _

His mind mapped every feel of her lips against his—their softness, their dewy moisture, and their taste of salt, still from his own tears.  He needed this.  He needed her.  He moved to kiss her face as he rubbed each eye against each of her cheeks and then moved to kiss away his tears from her face.  What, before he had only felt as a swell of emotion deep inside his stomach, he now felt more as a rolling ocean: swelling, cresting, then crashing to roll again within in his entire body.

He felt like a wave had finally crested too high and crashed down upon him as she whispered into his ear, "I love you."

Whatever strength he had been working to regain, he lost at the sound of her words and he sobbed again.  "Don't—" he choked out as he clutched her desperately again.  He'd lost his anchor in this sea and was now struggling just to keep from drowning.

"I love you, Harry," she repeated more firmly into his ear.

"Don't say it!" he rushed out between shudders.  "Don't'—"  

Hermione maneuvered him gently back another step and tried to step out of his arms and move onto her bed, but he couldn't let go.  She was now kneeling on her bed and he was still clutching her around her waist.  She cradled his head to her chest as he still cried and tried to breathe deeply to regain some control.  He murmured something unintelligible against her stomach so she leaned back, still kneeling, and pull his face to hers, kissing one eye.

He was only whispering and she had to listen very carefully to hear him as he said, "Everyone who's ever—just don't—they're gone—all gone—I can't lose you…."  

Hearing Hermione say _those words_ had brought on a whole new association to fear—Harry had flashed through the faces of those who he had known to love him and they were nearly all dead: his mum, his dad, Sirius—it was all he could list before he had succumbed to the fear of adding another to that list.  

Lupin's characterization of someone who loved another, being willing to die for that person had been on Harry's mind since the conversation.  It was mad, Harry thought, that love would be evidenced by death.  It felt to him, like a lousy gift and he would have traded more than a dozen Firebolts and all the gold in Gringotts to have just one person back.  

Hermione, putting together his incoherent words, kissed his face and pulled him to sit on the bed as she sat in his lap.  "Harry, you know there are plenty of people right here who love—"

"For now!" He blinked rapidly as he looked at her.

She shook her head and held a finger to his lips, "Harry, you know—"

He held her fingers away from his mouth and pleaded, "Just don't say it."  He had never felt like such a liar as he saying those words.  He knew he wanted to hear her say it—over and over, in fact.  Her telling him she loved him had been a moment of delirious bliss, except, that is, for the associations that then took over his mind and made him fear her placing herself among those who'd left him before.  

Hermione nodded and kissed his face again.  He was still shaking with some waning sobs and she bid him, "Here, lie back."  They lie together, facing each other on her bed and still holding each other and looking deep into the reflected depth of the other's eyes; Hermione assuring him with her mere presence.  

After shudders had subsided and tears had dried, they began to kiss.  Their kisses and caresses were loving.  As Harry had forbidden her to say the words, even as he now already regretted it, he imagined it was with actions they each were expressing these words.  

And so it was, as their breathing grew more rapid and their looks, heated, that Hermione broke the silence when she felt his hardness pressing against her hip, by asking, "Will you make love to me?"

It was a meeting of two worlds in Harry's mind as the question brought him to an event he had hoped to occur, but with words, he hadn't imagined he'd hear.  He'd been thinking of the event as the next progressive step in their physical relationship and an event that would cure his virginal condition—a coveted rite of passage.  But now, making love seemed like the final step in expressing what he couldn't with words; just as her offer expressed from her.  Both reasons from the two wholly different worlds of thinking seemed to make this right.

His body caught up to his heart as it processed her question and he twitched against her.  

"Will you?" she asked again and his eyes smoldered.  

He dove in to catch her mouth in a kiss that ended lightly as he nodded against her, catching and holding her gaze. "You sure?" he asked as he kissed her mouth once again.  

"Yes," she whispered as her hands lightly traced down his chest and to his waist, where they untucked his shirt hem from his trousers.  He finally took his arms from around her for the first time since he'd entered the room as she tugged his shirt up and over his head.  He returned an arm around her as he leaned down to kiss her again and moved his other hand to untie her dressing gown.  She stilled his hand and whispered, "It's all I have on."  

Harry, not sure whether to berate himself for not realizing this sooner or to just rip off the rest of clothes and go to it, stilled and let her guide him.  Hermione unbuttoned his jeans slowly and then peered down his body and to his feet.  "Your shoes are still on," she said smiling.  

Harry smiled back as he toed off his shoes and dropped them off the bed.  He kissed her again, this time on the spot just below her ear that never failed to make her relax and moan.  This time was no different as Hermione's head fell back into the pillow as Harry kissed and tickled with his tongue.  He was also, simultaneously, trying to toe off his socks and having some difficulties.

"What are you trying to do?" Hermione asked with amusement as she felt his feet moving.  

Harry laughed against her neck, "Trying to get my socks off."  He knew which ones they were and thought he wouldn't look too sexy wearing just them and a grin.

Hermione looked down and giggled.  "Um, why don't they match?"

Harry rolled his eyes as he sat up to peel them off, saying, "Dobby," as if that explained it all.  The elf had taken it upon himself to make sure all of Harry's socks had been properly mismatched in his wardrobe.  Harry was usually too asleep in the morning to care to try to match them back up.  

After he finally removed the mismatched socks from his feet, Harry lay back beside Hermione and traced her jaw and cheek with the pad of his thumb as his other hand rested on her waist.  Hermione's hands were gliding over the smoothness of his chest.  She reached one hand up and around his neck, bringing his head to hers for a deep kiss as her fingers laced through his hair.  

She opened her mouth completely to him and Harry took it, mapping it with his tongue and coaxing hers to caress his.  Her fingers combing through his messy locks were sending thrills through him.  His feet had begun to tangle with hers and he bent one knee, sliding it up and between hers.  The hand on her waist now slid over her hip and onto her thigh.  

Hermione encourage him by leaning back to give more space between them and by scraping her nails gently against his scalp.  Harry broke free from the kiss, gasping, and moved his kisses lower, to her neck and collar of her dressing gown.  His hand, at the same time, sought to find the opening of her gown and as it did, dropped down to caress the inner of her other thigh. 

He could feel her heat, even just inches away.  They'd never been completely without any form of undergarments on before and that thought was present in his mind now.  Hermione moved to lay more on her back and Harry leaned on his side, over her.  He met her eyes, so full of trust, and meant to reach up and kiss her but his gaze caught sight of her dressing gown, which had gaped open slightly and he detoured to kiss her chest and follow the collar line down to her breast.  He even brought up his hand from her thigh to cup her breast as he licked around her nipple, making her arch up and into his mouth.

Both of her hands laced through his hair, holding his head to her as he licked and sucked.  She moaned as Harry drew open her gown to reveal her other breast and he lavished his attentions upon it.  He was pressed against her thigh and the pressure was driving him mad so much so, that when her hand trailed down to he front of his jeans, he had to gasp and pull back to regain control.  

"Take off your jeans," Hermione whispered.  

Harry let his heart rate slow and then leaned back to unbutton them the rest of the way.  He took a deep, shuddering breath and asked, "Should we get under the bed covers?"  Hermione nodded and Harry scooted over and off the bed.  He looked around and saw that the bedroom door was still open.  He gulped and with his wand, closed and locked it.  He also turned and found the fireplace on the far wall of the room and lit it.  

"Good thing you noticed the door was open," said Hermione, slightly shocked they would have not noticed that.  She was standing behind Harry and he turned then to face her.  She reflexively drew closed her dressing gown and Harry brought his hands to hers, locking his gaze with hers.  He entwined the fingers of their hands and kissed her.  He lowered their hands and untwined one as he moved to untie her gown.  Her hand, meanwhile, went to ease down his jeans.  As they had already been unbuttoned completely, they slid right down, enabling him to step out of them. 

He had untied her outer dressing gown tie only to realize that the inner tie was still done.  Hermione turned then from him and drew back the bed covers.  She turned back to him and her eyes were at his waist.  She flicked her gaze up for a moment to question, "May I?" as she moved her hands to his waistband.  

Harry swallowed audibly and nodded, with an ever so slight shiver at the anticipation of being completely naked in front of Hermione.  She had touched him before and her hand had ventured into his boxers before, but he'd never been utterly starkers like this before with anyone—not that there had been anyone else besides Hermione.  

He had to help her ease them over himself and he heard her intake of breath as she saw him fully for the first time.  He pushed aside any awkwardness by focusing on putting his hands on her waist and sliding one hand in her gown to untie the last barrier.   

As the gown fell open, he gazed down at her, hungrily drinking in the sight of her and mapping everything he had only touched under the cover of darkness.  She looked everything he had imagined and better.  She was real.  He moved his hands to her waist now beneath the gown as he drank in the sight of her, oblivious to her observing him.  Harry moved one hand up to her shoulder and pushed back the cotton of the dressing gown so it fell back and down her arm.  She shrugged it off the other shoulder and she let it fall to the floor.  

_Be calm.  You've read all about this.  He needs this.  You want this.  Stop staring at his body, damnit—look at his eyes.  Yes, those eyes could talk me into anything.  _

Hermione stepped closer to him, extending one hand to his shoulder and drawing him to her_.  How in the world am I supposed to be near him with that, just **pointing** at me?  _

Harry anticipated this awkwardness and turned slightly to the side as he pulled Hermione closer to him.  _I can feel him, no **it**, against my hip.  God, I love the feel of Harry's arms; feeling his muscles flex as he moves to touch me.  He could touch me anywhere—I want him to touch me everywhere.  _

"I love it when you touch me," Hermione whispered, feeling Harry shiver from her words.

"I love touching you," Harry murmured as he lowered his head to kiss Hermione.  "And kissing," he adds as his lips are pressed against hers.

The feel of total skin-on-skin contact was intoxicating and Hermione turned slightly to more completely press their bodies together.  His erection slid against her and was now pressed in between their stomachs, making her feel the most tremulous flutters deep inside.    

_God, I want him.  Inside me_.   Hermione opened her mouth and tilted back her head, offering herself to Harry.   

Her offer was taken as Harry devoured her mouth and sought to probe as deep as he possibly could into her supplicant mouth; he had her arching her back as he bent her backwards.  

Gasping she finally, straightened up, resting her forehead against his.  As they locked eyes, each spoke, stopped then smiled.  

"You first," Hermione said.

Harry searched her eyes as he asked, "Are you sure about this?"  

"Oh, Harry—" _I love you, you prat, but you won't let me say it, now will you.  But you'll know—I promise that.  Hermione smiled determinedly back at him, "I'm sure."_

Harry smiled that smile that began with his eyes, moved down his face and just barely made his mouth quirk up.  It was a smile that Hermione had observed so many times and she had noticed that very few people would ever see it as a smile.  But she knew Harry; she knew him so well. 

"What were you going to say?" Harry asked, still locked to her eyes as his hands ran up and down her bare back, venturing just a fraction lower and lower each time they stroked downward.

Hermione felt a flush and let it propel her onward, "I was wondering if you had, er, a preference…on how to do this?"  _There're benefits to each position, but I think whatever he wants, is what I want to give him_.  _He looks confused, er…  "I mean, what position…  If, that is, there's one you want."  __I sound like such an idiot.  _

Harry felt realization wash over him, and a little relief too as he had hadn't known what she meant at first.  "Er, well, whatever."  His gaze drank in her face and blinked, "I want to see you."  His hands stroked in unison down her back and slowed as they crested over the swell of her bottom.  "I want to feel you."  His eyes closed as he breathed in the smell of her hair.  

Hermione drew her head back, gave him a lingering kiss and then stepped back, holding onto his hands.  "Ok," she took a deep, stabilizing breath, turned and climbed onto the bed, leading him while still holding one hand.  

Hermione stayed kneeling as Harry kneeled onto the bed and watched her every move to follow her lead.  She ran her hands over his chest looking him up and down and feeling herself swoon at the naked sight of him again. She pushed him back so he was sitting with his back up against the headboard, feeling his eyes watching her every move.

She leaned in to kiss him again, feeling his hands go to her waist, slid down her hips and then back up to her waist.  He was ever so lightly trying to draw her closer to him and Hermione lifted one knee over his thighs, broke the kiss and placed herself over his thighs.  She watched him look down at her body and felt a twinge of self-consciousness before it was chased away by Harry leaning towards her to wrap his arms around her and plunder her mouth yet again.  

He finally pulled back when lungs demanded air and he let himself fall back against the headboard again.  Hermione leaned with him and moved forward a few inches.  She stroked his face with one hand, watching him lean into her caress and then, with her other hand, reached down and took him into her hand.  

She had quickly found out during their nightly snogging expeditions that that she loved the feel of him in her hand.  It felt like holding onto something she had long been searching for and sorely missed.  

"Hermione," Harry rasped out, his eyes half-lidded as his fingers tightened on her hips, "I'm gonna…"  He eased her hand away from its stroking and placed her hand around his neck as he brought her to him again for a kiss, quickly moving from her mouth to her neck and shoulders.  

She straightened up and Harry was given perfect access to her breasts.  He went from one to the other and finally settled on cupping both in his hands and he kissed, licked and sucked at each, in turn.  Hermione was arching against him and pressing herself to his mouth as she twined her hands through his hair.

Harry could feel himself rubbing just barely against the back of her thigh and he was dying for more.  Still sucking and tonguing the nipple of her breast, he slid one hand down, between her legs, up her inner thigh and cupped her.  

One thing Hermione had done, and he had been ever so grateful, was the first time he had ever touched her down here, she moved his hand to show him where to touch. He slid his fingers now slowly into her folds and this new positioning gave him a unique angle to use his thumb to seek out the spot that made her fingers claw at his scalp while his fingers could delve further back into what he now found to be wetness.  

Hermione moaned and began to move against his hand, still pressing herself into his mouth.    Harry, between the sensation of her hands running through his hair, his mouth devouring every inch of her breasts he could, and the incredible heat his hand was working into, was almost caught off guard when her hips bucked and she swayed back, causing his member to collide with his delving fingers.  It was only an instant but it was enough to turn Harry's thoughts completely to his own desire.  

He drew back his hand from between her legs leaned back to catch pull her mouth down to his.  His hands went to her hips as he silently pleaded with her to lower herself onto him.    As she did and he felt his tip contact heat and wetness, his head lolled back and he thought he just might pass out.  But she had paused and he rolled his head back forward to lock eyes with Hermione.  They leaned their heads together and held each other's gaze as she pushed down onto him.  Harry fought to keep his eyes open to watch Hermione whose eyes closed for a few moments as she pushed down to take him in.  

Breathing deeply, she opened her eyes to look at Harry after she had finally adjusted to having him inside her.  _God, I love you.  God, I love this.  You inside me, you between my legs, you holding me, and you, with your green eyes, binding me to you_.  "I'm yours," she breathed out.    

Harry kissed her with hunger and passion that was matched eagerly, by Hermione's.  As their mouths battled for dominance, Hermione began to wiggle and moved up and down, causing them both to gasp out and shudder at the sensation of her sliding up and down upon him.  Harry clutched her to him and drew her down upon his shaft, kissing her fiercely and pushing up and into her.  "Oh, God," he breathed out.

As she felt him pulse inside her and his mouth groan as he tightened his arms around her, Hermione felt a swell of satisfaction.  _He came.  Harry and I just made love.  She smiled against his shoulder as she ran her hands through his thoroughly tousled locks and felt the spasms of his muscles contracting in his arms as he held her.   _

Hermione kissed his neck and leaned back to kiss his face as his arms finally relaxed around her.  Harry fell back against the headboard, pulling Hermione with him, his face plastered with a blissful, dopey grin as he still breathed out heavily through his mouth.  

He barely noticed as Hermione kissed his face, his neck, even his chest and began to rock against him, feeling a building sensation from her grinding herself against him.  Harry only began to notice, after a minutes of recovery, when she began moaning and arching her back, making him feel a stirring in his loins that brought him back to the full awareness that he was still buried inside her.  He brushed and held back her hair on one side as she was licking one of his own nipples to an excited state.  

She noticed he was awake again and leaned back, locking her eyes to his as she worked to grind herself against him.   It was a feral look she beheld his eyes with as she alternated between closing her eyes in pleasure and meeting his gaze.  Something wicked in her was building and getting excited as she realized he was getting turned on again by watching her get off.  Feeling him harden inside her was only intensifying her building pleasure and desire.  

Harry stroked her cheek and brushed back the hair from her face again.  The sight of her head rolling upon her shoulders, making her hair fall all about and over her eyes was a decidedly sexy look he had only ever associated before with some glossy picture or a woman, the likes of which he'd surely never before met.  

"You're so beautiful," he whispered and he saw her smile at him.  "So beautiful.  So…sexy.  Hot."  Harry was caressing her face again and repeatedly pushing back her wild hair from her face to watch her.  "You're brilliant.  Lovely.  You look lovely…_feel lovely.  You…feel…incredible."  _

He struggled to block out how wonderful it felt for him as she moved.  He could feel the added wetness inside her from when he came and he was trying to talk to keep his mind from blowing himself again before she got off.  "God, Hermione, you are so wonderful…_brilliant."  _

As her moans grew louder and her rocking more jerky, she cried out, "Oh, Harry!  God!" as she bit her lip and fell forward into his waiting embrace.  Harry devoured her mouth and felt her tightening repeatedly around him.  He wanted her.  He slid down against the headboard and drove up into her, making her cry out again.  Again he drove up, and again.  He felt her nails digging in to his back and he wanted her losing control. He thrust up over and over, feeling his balls tighten, signalling his impending release.  He held her hips and worked her against him as he thrust up again and as she whimpered in his ear, he came again, thrusting throughout as he felt her raking her nails against him each time he rubbed against her.  

Exhausted, they both slid down, into the bed and Hermione finally fell off to the side with a wet squelching noise.  Harry smiled at the sound and grabbed his wand and performed a quick charm to vanish the leftover mess.  

"Do I want to know where you learned that?" Hermione asked sleepily.

She felt Harry smirk against her neck and he pulled her close under the covers.  "Charms class.  Vanishing charm.  Works well for, er, _sticky messes."  He yawned and added, "I've used it before with you…you never did notice?"_

"When?"

Harry laughed against her ear, "When I needed to."

"With me?"  Hermione pulled back to look at his face, "When?"

"God, you think with all we did…you never made me…you know?"  Several nights, through the barrier of clothing, then had lined things up pretty much as close as they could get and the rough friction of their clothing made vanishing charms a necessity several times before Harry could properly fall asleep.

"I knew you did some spell, but I thought it was a spell to calm yourself or something…you never…I never…I mean you didn't…"

"Make any noise?  Yeah, you live in a dorm with four guys and you'll learn to stifle the noise, too."

"Silencing charms, Harry—they work well," said Hermione knowingly.

"Yeah well, we don't all read ahead.  Old habits die hard."  Harry kissed her on the lips again and sighed.  "You really are brilliant."

Wit the dying fire the only light in the room, Hermione could just make out the green glint of his eyes as she asked shyly, "Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Stunning," he said as if she should know this.  "Stunningly beautiful.  Stupefyingly."  He kissed her on the forehead again before drifting off into dreamless sleep.

Hermione awoke to feel fingers playing with a curl of her hair.  She fluttered open her eyelashes to see Harry perched up on his elbow, looking down at her through his glasses and wearing a dreamy grin.  

"Mmm," she sighed as she rolled over against him and snuggled into his chest as he scooted down beside her.  

"How come you've got a different view out your window than mine?" Harry asked as he gave her a peck on her temple.  'Mine facing that same way have a completely different view, why?"

"Mmm, mchntmnt," she mumbled.

"I know they're enchanted, but why are they different, I wonder?"

Hermione yawned and rolled onto her back as she stretched. "It's the view from a seaside inn where my parents took me often on holidays.  I chose it when I moved in."  She rolled back to face Harry and kissed him.

Harry kept her mouth longer than she'd intended and he pulled her closer to press against him and feel him digging into her thigh. He bent and insinuated his knee between her legs and he soon rolled atop her as she spread her legs for him to open herself for him.  

He tried valiantly to last longer than a few minutes but lost the battle of willpower when Hermione whispered in his ear how good he felt inside of her and then laced her fingers through his hair.

He collapsed on top of her, catching his breath and waiting for the room to stop spinning.  When he finally realized he might be crushing Hermione, he rolled off and kissed her face.  

"Do you have training today?" Hermione asked a now sleepy again Harry.

"Mm, what's today?"

"Saturday."

"Shit."  His eyes opened wide and he looked around quickly for a clock.  "What time is it?"  

Hermione spotted the clock above the mantle and said, "Eight o'clock, oh no!"

Harry scrambled out of bed, getting tangled in the bed covers and swearing again.  "Bugger, if Moody's already here—_hell_!  I didn't even cast a Perimeter Charm last night—"  The color drained from his face as he envisioned Moody trudging up to the Practice Hall to meet Harry at seven and finding it empty, looking for him, only to see through all the walls and doors and see him, tangled and naked with Hermione.

He was hurriedly jumping on one foot as he tugged on his jeans and searched the room for his shirt.  Hermione summoned it, along with his shoes and socks for him as she found her dressing gown and tied it closed. 

He paused after slipping on his shoes, to stand before Hermione.  He leaned his head against hers and smiled, "You really are brilliant, you know."

She smiled back and kissed him, "Hurry up."

He grinned, saying, "I'm already late," and kissed her again, making her push him away to leave finally.  "I owe you!" he called out as he left.

But Harry never found Moody waiting for him.  In fact, he found the house empty.  Not even a house elf was to be found.  In the kitchen he found breakfast left in the warming oven.  He pulled it out and hurriedly ate, expecting Moody or someone to walk in any moment and chastise him for forgetting about training.  

But no one showed up and after he'd finished, he pilled a plate high for Hermione and added it to a tray with a pot of tea and carried it upstairs for Hermione.  She wasn't in her room when he arrived and he walked to his room and heard the shower in the bathroom, making him grin.  

He set the tray down in his room and changed his shirt to a new one with a fleeting thought he could also use a shower, and he would greatly love to be in there right now but, he still had a fear that someone would return, wondering where he was.  Not to mention, Hermione just might hex for presuming to walk in on her bathing.

Figuring he only had one more full day before he had to leave for Hogwarts, he pulled out and opened his trunk to begin packing.  He had emptied his trunk completely and was wondering how he'd fit everything into he now had into it when he heard Hermione come out of the bathroom.

"Hey, in here," he called. 

She was all showered and dressed for the day (much to Harry's disappointment) and stopped when she heard Harry call.

"Moody leave?" she asked.

Harry shook his head.  "Dunno.  Didn't find him.  Didn't find anybody.  Brought you breakfast," he said as he gestured tot he tray on his bed.  

Hermione grinned and said, "Be right back."

She returned and sat on his bed to eat her breakfast as Harry asked, "Do you know the spell to enlarge things?"

Hermione choked on a sausage and swallowed to say, "Harry, I think you have nothing to worry about.  From what I've read, you're quite well—"

"That's not what I meant!" Harry said quickly waving his hand, but then inquired curiously,  "Really?"

Hermione laughed, "Really."

Harry looked pleased and then remembered what he had wanted to know, "Er, I mean to enlarge a _space_—like my trunk so it has more room.  I know it's transfiguration to change the dimension, but how do I get it so it appears the same from the outside?"

Hermione summoned a book from her room, _Practically Enchanting, and searched the proper charm to add to the transfigured trunk as she ate her breakfast.  _

Harry picked up a carefully folded robe from first year and sat on his bed across from Hermione.  "Did you still have a mirror from Remus?" he asked.

"Huh," she said distractedly, still thumbing through the book.

Harry was gingerly unwrapping the robe to reveal the broken shards of the mirror from Sirius.

"Oh, I found it—" Hermione stopped when she saw Harry looking down at the broken mirror in his lap.  "It didn't work?  That's right, I still have the other one—you never used it, oh, Harry, I'm sorry you couldn't repair it," she said moving towards him to look at the shards.

"No, that's not it, I never tried."  He sighed and looked at her, "You still have yours?"

"Yeah, it's in my room."  Hermione was furrowing her brow, looking between Harry and the mirror shards, trying to understand.

Harry nodded and turned back to the mirror.  "I broke it," he said, "after Sirius…died."  He breathed out putting those two words together.   Quietly, he said, "I thought he might…might have had it with him when he went through…his mirror…I tried…nothing…." He drew in a deep breath and pointed his wand at it, whispering, "_Reparo_."  

The mirror mended and Harry saw his reflection in it.  He closed his eyes and felt Hermione slip her arms around him from behind.  "I miss him, too," she whispered.

Harry had thought it might be realistic to think he'd be over losing Sirius by the time school was set to begin. Now, he felt the grief and guilt just as strong as the beginning of the summer.  He felt it because there had been many days where he never even thought about Sirius.  He'd been busy with training.  _But I started training because of Sirius—to get revenge.  Busy with Hermione.  __Somehow, I think he might approve of that, actually.  Dumbledore hadn't brought up the idea of a Life Celebration for Sirius yet since the first letter and Harry was grateful to not feel pressure for overcoming his grief.  He wondered if he was the only one they were waiting for to complete grieving, but then quickly remembered that Remus was surely considered as also grieving. _

Now, with the mirror repaired, he felt like he was forgiving himself for not using it.  He vowed to think about Sirius more and to work towards being grateful for having known him.  He also vowed to talk to Remus about Sirius.

The next day, after Harry and Hermione managed to unstuck themselves from each other and finally stumbled out of bed just before noon, Harry was back to working on packing when he stumbled upon a book--_the book_--on his shelf of various books, that had been in his room when he moved in.  

_Well, blow me over_…  Harry flipped open the book and after tearing his eyes away from the picture of a couple doing rather, _intimate_ things to each other (they paused a second upon Harry's opening to the page to wink at him), he saw there was also written descriptions of performing the acts in the picture.  

Harry slipped the book over and looked at the front cover: _What a Witch Wants: A Wizard's Guide to Bringing out the Wicked in Any Witch.   _"Gor blimey," Harry breathed out.  This was definitely required reading--from front to back.  

He flipped open the cover and saw some writing inside that read: 

_Harry, _

_May you benefit from this as many before you have.  Your father and I bought this the summer before our sixth year in Knockturn Alley.  Hopefully this can save you the trip and help you out along the way.  We leased it out to other mates at school.  Turned quite a few knuts, we did.  _

_Sirius_

There was a small voice in his head that shouted indignantly at Hermione for "borrowing" his book--a book from Sirius to him--no less!  But that voice was trampled over by the one singing the praises of Harry's luck at having such a wonderful and thoughtful godfather…or maybe just such a brilliantly _cool_ godfather.  

A knock at his door made Harry jump and he turned, hiding the book behind his back, to see Professor Dumbledore in the doorway.  "I'm a bit early today, if you're not too busy, may I come in, Harry?"  His eyes twinkled as he took in the sight of Harry's room with piles of books and robes across the bed indicating Harry's attempts to pack.

"Erm," Harry fought the panicky feeling that he had been caught doing something illicit and cleared his throat.  "Come in, Professor.  Pardon my mess, I've been sorting through things to attempt to pack finally."  Harry shoved The Book onto a small pile of other books, pilled a few more on top of that and then beckoned to the armchair that wasn't covered in robes for Professor Dumbledore to have a seat.  

Dumbledore spoke as Harry banished a few other articles of clothing from the other chair and sat down, "I had not planned on much of a lesson today, Harry.  I think you deserve another day off before you head back to a new year of studies.  Did you get Remus' owl last night?"

"Yes."  Remus had owled Harry and Hermione the night before, explaining that Moody had requested his help in the finishing of the extra security around and in Hogwarts.  Remus had said he would be back for Sunday dinner and surely not miss the last night they were all to spend at Grimmauld Place.  "He's still returning this evening?" Harry inquired.  

"Yes, he is."  Dumbledore twinkled as he watched Harry, making him feel slightly uncomfortable.  Too much twinkly Dumbledore was always something of which to be wary, Harry thought.

"I hope you've been able to enjoy much of your holiday, yes?" he asked.

Harry's considered the question slowly in his mind.  Dumbledore had adopted a method of slyly testing Harry's Occlumency skills by asking questions such as this to try to catch Harry off his guard and revealing some thoughts.  But Harry had caught on quickly and always reserved his thoughts now to account for this.  He thought, of course, about Hermione and smiled, "Yes, sir.  I have."  

Dumbledore smiled.  "Good. That was one of many of my hopes for you this summer.  It was the only one which I had not already confirmed that you'd attained."  

Harry flushed and fought a smile at the praise of meeting Dumbledore's expectations.  

"I wish to commend you, Harry, on your working through the challenge the other night."  His look grew slightly more solemn but was still intense as his sky blue eyes peered over his half moon glasses.  "I had not really expected you to be able to get through."  Dumbledore quirked a wry half-smile, saying, "I had intended to set up an unattainable goal which would allow any member of the Order to try their hand at going against you in a controlled manner."

Harry had an image of using his wand-turned-sword to cast a shield charm.  He hadn't told anyone about this yet and he began to suspect Dumbledore surely must have heard from McGonagall about what he had done.  Harry looked down and fidgeted with a chess piece on the table between them.  

"Minerva tells me you had conjured a sword just before you stunned her, which we could see was just before you blasted the hedges away."  

As Dumbledore spoke, Harry's face fell, as he berated himself for not closing his mind upon thinking about this, something he done many times before during the course of his training and "chats" with Dumbledore. 

"Harry?"  He looked up at the professor.  "I didn't read that through your mind…oh."  A look of dawning comprehension and mild sheepishness crossed over the headmaster's face and he smiled as he confessed, "Perhaps, it was I who left my mind open.  Tell me, what did you see?"

Harry was wide-eyed and recalled, saying, "Well, I think I had an image of what Professor McGonagall would have seen before she was stunned and then, I got the thought, er, feeling?  That she had told you."

Dumbledore nodded, smiling, "Yes.  Well, then, you are progressing on to the next natural stage of becoming an Occlumens; your mind--closed off to external penetration, is becoming more receptive to seeing more clearly what is reflected from other minds."  He gave Harry a serious look, "It will take time to get used to it and trust it.  Use it wisely."

Harry nodded, excited.  Even since Dumbledore explained how he would progress, he had looked forward to this.  He knew it was how Snape had always tried to catch him in things as he had tried to stare Harry down.  

Dumbledore watched Harry's excitement with amusement, "Progress, is always exciting, isn't it?  Tell me, do you know how you blasted away the hedges in the maze?"

"Er, well," Harry bit his lip, knowing everyone had assumed it was a blasting curse.  "I'm not sure how but, well, I wasn't entirely a blasting curse."

Dumbledore's eyes sparked.  "I thought not."  He held a finger aloft in the air as he intoned, "I had specifically recalled how you used it with some limited success in the Tournament maze and I reinforced the hedges to resist that curse.  So, what was it then?"  Dumbledore leaned forward and looked keenly interested to know.

Unfortunately, Harry didn't "Well, I'm not quite sure you see…it just kind of felt like the thing to do…" Harry trailed off, feeling lame. 

Dumbledore looked disappointed for a moment before recovering.  "Well, then.  It certainly worked."  He eyed Harry for a moment before saying, "It was _The_ sword, wasn't it?"  

Harry nodded.  "I had rather been thinking of conjuring something to physically attack the hedges, but, well, it just kind of …popped up?"  Harry's answer sounded more like a question.

"Hmm, I see."  Dumbledore shook his head.  "I don't know what to tell you, Harry.  That sword, as far back as I have read from the records from those who have held the position of Lead Light of the Order, has always been seen as a symbolic and imbued magical artifact that was meant to provide inner strength and courage."  He paused, looking at Harry, "That's twice it has come to your hands to allow you to wield it."

Harry thought of something else that he recalled when the sword had come to his hand.  "Sir?  There's something else, when I held it…actually, it happened at the induction as well, sir…"  He wasn't sure how to say this.  Harry still recalled Ron telling him that hearing voices was never a good thing, even in the wizarding world.  "Remember when I told you about the voices…that reminded me of the ones from the veil?  The ones I said I sometimes cold hear or dreamt about?"  Dumbledore nodded slowly, watching Harry closely.  "Well," he took a deep breath, "I heard them.  When I was holding the sword.  Both times."  He also recalled hearing his father, but thought was surely a figment of his imagination and he wasn't exactly ready to be thought of as a nutter so close after the public was finally seeing him as not a mental case.  

After a minute, Dumbledore spoke, "Do you hear them still, as you said you did before?"

"Yes," Harry said but then thought better on it.  "Well, not so much really."  He couldn't recall dreaming about them for some time now really.  And as for quiet time where he was just thinking, there wasn't much of that.  "Not so much of late," he added.  

"And your scar?" Dumbledore inquired, gesturing to it.  "Any feelings in it?"

"Nope.  None."  Harry shook his head.  

"Well, curious, indeed.  I will have to think on this.  Ah, on to another topic."  Dumbledore grinned at Harry as he pulled out a roll of parchment from his robe.

"Here is your schedule for the upcoming term, Harry.  I had it prepared ahead and brought it along so I might explain some of the things on here -- some which I have taken the liberty to add."  He handed the timetable to Harry.

"You will see, Harry, that I added Healing to your schedule as well as what I've termed Private Study which is when I'd like to continue working with you on Occlumency and other discussions as needed.  Meetings of the Order are still to occur each Friday evening but are not listed on your timetable."

Harry saw that his schedule, although with less classes, was still very full as the courses were now almost all double time periods. He was pleased to see he still had a few breaks each day besides his evenings and meals free.  

"Who is teaching Healing, Professor?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore smiled, "You know him."  _Not Snape_.  "Firenze.  Centaurs are very gifted in the healing arts and he has agreed to take this post for us while Professor Trelawney resumes her post as teaching Divination."  _Thank God, because two classes with Snape would have been unthinkable_.  

"Of course, I am also presuming and hoping you might still wish to continue tutoring your fellow students?  A group with such a fine name should not cease after such a short run."  

Harry grinned, "I was hoping you wouldn't mind.  Hermione reckons it would be expected what with Sn--, _Professor_ Snape, teaching Defense.   We'd understand to keep the illusion of it as a secret group, sir.  Professor Snape would be, well, _irate_ to think we're going around him, yes?"

Dumbledore nodded, agreeing.  "There is one more thing.  I know your free time is not abundant, Harry, however I would feel remiss to not offer you this," Dumbledore said as he pulled out a shiny red and gold pin from a pocket.

Harry's jaw dropped to see the Gryffindor Prefect badge being proffered before him.  "But…what about…"  _Ron?  What happened to Ron? _He looked up at Dumbledore, "I can't…sir…"

Dumbledore nodded and took Harry's hand and placed the badge in it and closed his fist over it.  "Ronald has resigned his post, effective over a week ago.  I believe he cited wishing to pursue his studies as the reason for his resignation."  Harry looked into Dumbledore's eyes, still not sure about this.  "He may have meant studies to be quidditch, however, he did resign, leaving the post open."

Harry looked down and opened his hand, seeing the badge glinting up at him.  "But sire, I'm not sure…" he trailed off.

Dumbledore rose from his chair and laid a hand on Harry's shoulder as he said, "If you can think of a better choice, I'm open to it?"  Harry said nothing, still looking at the Prefect badge.  With a squeeze to Harry's shoulder he turned to leave, saying, "Then I'll leave you to it."

That night Remus, Harry and Hermione had a lingering dinner where they even convinced Dobby and Winky to join them for pudding.  Hermione and Remus were continually off on intellectual ponderings, leaving Harry to field Dobby's many questions and comments.

"Dobby and Winky is to go back to Hogwarts, now, Harry Potter, sir.  Is Harry Potter happy about this?  We can remain here if Harry Potter wishes, sir?  If you needs Dobby, sir, Dobby is hoping Harry Potter will just ask him and he will help Harry Potter sir." 

Harry tried to change the subject to how many hats Dobby now had as he had gotten sick of hearing his name after the seventy-sixth time.

Harry was pulled back into the adult conversation when he heard Remus say, "Actually, I will also be travelling to Hogwarts with you tomorrow."

"Really?" Harry asked, excitedly.

Remus smiled, "Yes, in disguise, however."  Before Harry and Hermione could ask about the disguise, Remus stopped them, smiling, "You'll just have to guess."

"How are we getting there?" Hermione asked.

"Well," Remus answered, "We've used Kings Cross as an apparition point in your training this summer for a reason.  With the aid of Harry's cloak, you two may easily apparate undetected to the station.  I will go before you and Kingsley, one of the Aurors assigned to accompany the Express, will follow you."

The next morning, Remus had to tap his foot as he waited for Harry and Hermione to hurriedly gather the last of their things and rush down to the entrance hall.  (They had not been able to drag themselves out of bed and away from each other until Remus sent Hedwig in through the window with a note, blatantly address to both Harry and Hermione, telling them to get out of bed before he alerted the Order that they were missing.)

"Got everything?  Oh, Crookshanks!"  Hermione dashed upstairs, nearly knocking over Harry as he levitated his trunk in front of him with a backpack over his shoulder.  He had already sent Hedwig on ahead and fond room in his expanded trunk for her cage.

"Shrink your trunks, Harry.  It'll be easier to apparate with them," Remus instructed.  

Harry shrunk his and Hermione's trunk to the size of a snitch.  He tucked both into his trouser pocket as he turned to see Hermione carrying an annoyed Crookshanks in his carrier.

"All right, where's my trunk now?" she asked, looking around, frazzled.

"In my trousers," said a smirking Harry.

Hermione gave him a look, not sure what to say.

Harry shrugged, "Remus had me shrink them."

Hermione's eyes glinted, "Oh, I was wondering how you'd have room in there for them."

"Okay," Remus sighed exasperatedly, "apparate now, flirt later, " as he checked his watch.

With a 'Pop!', Kingsley arrived, "Sorry I'm late.  Good news, everyone who had opted for portkeys, changed their minds and now everyone is on the train.  Shall we go?"

"Oh, it's nearly ten-to!" Hermione wailed as Remus left with a 'pop!'.

Harry pulled out his invisibility cloak from his bag and twirled it open for Hermione to come and join him under it.  "Shall we?" 

Under the cloak, their eyes met and Harry said, "Together, on the count of three, ready?  One-two-three!"

The apparated at the same time to the apparition point they'd used during training several times before.  Remus had had them using the Invisibility cloak before as well, as it was an excellent tool to get them to practice their precision when apparating and it also made sure no one who wasn't supposed to, noticed them popping in and out.

As they arrived under the cloak, Harry snaked a hand around to pull Hermione close for a quick kiss, ending with a squeeze on her bum, making her squeak.

"I take it that's you two," they heard Remus say from close by.  As Hermione turned away from Harry and trailed her hand to land a well-placed grope, they saw Kinglsey appear beside them.  

"Ok," Remus said, "Take it off and follow me."

With a flourish, Harry gave Hermione one last nip on her ear as he whipped off the cloak and folding it up quickly, stuffed it into his bag, smirking as he saw Hermione looking slightly bothered. 

They hurried out from the alcove they'd apparated to and went through the barrier to Platform 9 and ¾.  When they arrived, they saw the usual hustle and bustle that every departure had, however, they noted an increase in the number of adults present.  

Remus called as he trotted away quickly, "See you there!"

"Oh, we need to hurry to get a car," Hermione said.  

"Yeah, get your buttocks in a car, kiddies!" cried a familiar voice.  

"Tonks!" Hermione cried, giving her a hug and then walking together towards the train.  Hermione turned back, "C'mon Harry!"

Harry shook his head and nodded at Kingsley, "Thanks, I'd best follow before I get left behind."

On the train, Harry followed Hermione, who had lost Tonks as they boarded.  "Oh!"  Hermione whirled around to look, stricken, at Harry.  "I forgot--I need to be in the Prefect's car--no wonder we're not finding Ron anywhere."  Harry stammered a few moments, realizing he would be expected, as well, but also realizing that he had not yet told anyone--even Hermione-- that he had a Prefect badge.  "I'll see when I get done, Harry!"  Hermione called as she handed Crookshanks over to Harry who still didn't feel right about going to the Prefect car.  

Just then, he heard another familiar voice, "Hello, Harry."  He turned to see Luna Lovegood, already dressed in her robes with a silver and blue Ravenclaw prefect badge.  "I am supposed to head to the front car, Harry, but when I get back, you'll have to see my pictures of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."  And with that, she breezed past Harry.  

Harry turned to see a dreamy-eyed Neville looking after her.  "Oh, Hello Harry.  Oh! Thanks for owling me yesterday to tell me to take Potions!  Are you sure," he looked around furtively, "_he's_ not teaching it?"

Harry nodded.  He had owled Neville the day before to alert him that Snape was no longer teaching Potions this year and urged Neville to take the class as he and Hermione were both enrolled in it.

"Brilliant," he said smiling in a way Harry rarely ever say Neville smile.  "Luna says she just loves Potions…" he trailed off and Harry got the distinct impression that Neville rather fancied Luna Lovegood.

"Hey Neville," Harry began as a thought formed in his head, "I nearly forgot." 

Harry shifted Crookshanks over to his hip and dug in his pocket.  "Professor Dumbledore asked me to give this to you when I saw you.  It's a last minute thing after Ron resigned."  Harry handed the Prefect badge over to Neville, watching his eyes go wide in astonishment.  

"You'd better hurry--just blame me for being late in giving it to you--Prefects are in the front car."  He turned and looked down the corridor, saying, "I think you can just follow Luna as that's where she was heading."

With a smile, he watched Neville stammer, "Wow, but…well…"

"You'd better hurry," Harry warned, not wanting him to go through a self-deprecating list of why he didn't deserve it.  

Neville looked up to see Harry's earnest smile and said feebly, "My trunk, Trevor, they're in the car," he said pointing at the car to the right.

"I'll watch them," Harry offered and he watched Neville hurry off down the corridor.

~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~

Ok, almost to Hogwarts……now that's one helluva long chapter…..forgive me for not getting all the way to school.  Blame Harry and Hermione-- they just couldn't keep their hormonal hands off each other and caused this chapter to run loooooong.


	21. Chapter 24 Home to Hogwarts

Chapter 24.  Home to Hogwarts 

"Oi!  Harry!" Ron, quite obviously harried from having to rush after, undoubtedly, yet another famous Weasley late-arrival, stumbled to a stop outside the car where Harry had been trying to secure Crookshanks into an overhead compartment.  

"In here, Ron.  You guys barely made it!" said Harry as the steam engine began to whistle and he felt the train begin to chug along.

Ginny unceremoniously nudged (more like shoved) Ron into the compartment.  "Hurry up, you lug!  We wouldn't be so late if it weren't for you dawdling around trying to argue with the mirror!"  

Ginny rushed in with only a glance at Harry, "Hello, Harry," dumped her trunk on the floor, shoved a cage with a beautiful silver screech owl at Ron and ran out, crying, "See you later!"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron, who just shook his head with bewilderment and said, "What kind of greeting is that?  She's been all secretive writing _love letters to you, no doubt, and then she barely gives you the time of day, lest a proper greeting?"_

Harry took a moment to take in his meaning and shrugged just as Crookshanks let out a yowl as the train had picked up more speed, making his cage slide.  "Fine," he said taking the cage down and setting it on the seat, "you can just sit with all the rest of us, then.  Happy?"  

The large orange cat just turned around, refusing to face Harry in answer, and settled down in his carrier.

"Is that Ginny's owl?" Harry asked as he finally settled into his seat, with an arm over Crookshanks' carrier.

Ron nodded and mumbled, "Yeah," as he wedged the cage between some trunks. 

"Take it she's a Prefect?" Harry asked slyly, trying to see if Ron was going to tell him he resigned his position.

Ron just mumbled and dug in a bag, rummaging around purposefully.

"Heard you resigned—does that mean you talked to McGonagall and changed your classes?"  Harry was thinking that Ron's resignation and purported aims to dedicate more time to his studies meant he'd decided to aim for a career as an Auror, despite not meeting the requirement to take NEWT Potions.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I'm in Charms now and I put in a request for Transfiguration.  McGonagall said she'd have to let me know when term starts if I got in."  He shrugged again, saying, "Yeah, I just never had any free time last year, ya know?  Thought with NEWTs coming up and all, I might as well leave some quality time to slack off."

Harry grinned and then broke into a wide smile.  "Maybe you can get into Potions too," he said.

Ron rolled his eyes sullenly, "Yeah, right.  Snape likes me just barely more than you."

Harry was still grinning and took great pleasure in being able to watch Ron's reaction as he said, "What if Snape weren't teaching Potions this year?"

Still huffing, Ron slumped in his seat and looked out the window, "Yeah, like we would actually have something _good happen for a change."  Ron then seemed to process the sly way Harry had said that and turned to stare at his friend.  "Hold on," he said as his eyes went wide seeing Harry grinning across at him, "_Snape's not teaching Potions?!_"  Ron's incredulous voice was high and strained as his eyes bulged out in mounting glee._

Harry just chuckled and nodded.  

Ron gaped for a few more moments as the glee spread throughout his face and he jumped up and pumped his fist in the air.  "Yeah!"

Harry was still grinning but thought he ought to not let Ron get too excited.  "But he's still around.  In fact…" Harry wasn't sure if he was meant to tell anyone yet who the new DADA professor would be so he hedged, "In fact I think he's still teaching something.  So he's not been trampled by Blast Ended Skrewts or anything."

Ron's face fell and he slumped back in his chair.  "But you're sure he's not teaching Potions?" he asked trying to hold on to some possibly good news.

Harry nodded, "From what I've heard.  Which means, you might be able to get into the class," Harry said hoping Ron would suffer through the dull class that Potions always was, by his side.

With renewed hope that he might be able to take the course of study to be an Auror, Ron perked up as the trolley came by and he and Harry loaded up on sweets and bantered about the chances of the Chudley Cannons actually winning a few games this year.  

"Ginny showed me a Quibbler article saying the Cannons were ripe to win the league," Ron gushed, not caring that the Quibbler was best known for its improbable claims, Harry's article withstanding. 

As Ron swallowed the last of a pumpkin pasty, he commented, "Luna's kind of out there, isn't she?"

Harry found the comment unexpected and found he didn't quite like talking about her like she was some freak. "I dunno," he said trying not to sound too defensive, "I think she's just different.  But not bad."  He shrugged.  "I think she's a bit of alright."

Ron seemed satisfied and tore open a bag of Fizzing Whizbees as he said, "Yeah, alright."

Shortly thereafter Luna, Ginny and Hermione all filed into the compartment. 

"Ron!" Ginny cried.  "Mercury doesn't like being stuffed between trunks on the floor!" as she pulled out the cage and cooed at the silver bird.

"Ginny!" Ron mocked in a high voice, "Harry doesn't like being ignored!" he grinned as he taunted his little sister.

Harry hazarded a quick glance at Hermione who had sat next to him, just on the other side of Crookshanks.  She looked like she had something she wanted to say and Harry assumed it was just some news from the Prefect meeting. 

"Oh, Ron, honestly—you'd think you were the one being ignored."  Ginny turned to Harry and smiled and reached down to give him a hug.  "Hey, hope you didn't miss us too much," she said as she let him go.

"What kind of greeting is that?" Ron berated.

"Harry," Hermione cut in as she stood up, "I need to ask you a favor.  A personal favor."  She eyed him trying to will him to understand something he wasn't getting.  "Ginny, you too, you might be able to persuade him.  Can we talk privately for a second?"

Harry hazarded a glance at Ron, who shrugged at him, obviously mystified as well.

Hermione turned and slid open the door the compartment and walked out, followed by Ginny and Harry.  They squeezed into the loo a few doors down and Hermione sealed and silenced the door and turned on Harry.

"Why weren't you in the Prefect's car?" she asked shrewdly as her eyes narrowed.  Ginny just sat back and watched.

"Erm, well, I'm not a Prefect."  Harry thought that was a perfectly good reason.

"McGonagall asked where you were when I first walked in.  She seemed surprised to see Neville show up.  We all were," Her eyes were very narrow as she surveyed Harry closely.

"Neville's a perfectly fine choice for Prefect," Harry asserted quickly.  He stared her down for a minute, waiting for her to try to argue that and added, "Reckon Malfoy made sure to hide his surprise well."

"Malfoy's not a Prefect anymore," Hermione said loftily, as she crossed her arms.  "But then McGonagall explained that Ron resigned his post."

"Really?  Malfoy's not a Prefect?"  Harry thought that was most excellent news.

"Really.  He never even made an appeal for formal hearing on the complaints lodged against him—seems quite a few people wrote in to report him—Ernie, Hannah, Padma—loads."

Harry grinned at the good news.  

"Ok, why am I here?" Ginny broke in curiously.

"Oh," Hermione composed herself and reached for Harry's hand, "we all need to talk.  Right Harry?"

He looked at her and squeezed her hand, not realizing how he had already missed her after only be on the train barely an hour. "Right.  About Ron." He looked back to Ginny, "We want to tell him."

Ginny bit her lip and said, "Well, I've been working on it.  I think he just needs to have someone else to occupy his mind, you know?"  She perched on the was washbasin ledge and swung her legs as she continued, "I've been thinking that when he finds out you two are together, he may feel left out.  I mean a few years ago when he wasn't talking to you, Harry, he had Fred and George, but now…."

As she trailed off, both Harry and Hermione both felt awful at possibly causing their other best friend to feel alienated.  Harry was an expert at how it felt to be the odd one out.

"So, I've been trying to get him to notice another girl.  I actually had one in mind.  Luna told me this summer-- she and her dad just live down the road a way--anyway, she told me that she did a Tarot reading on herself and it foretold that she would fall in love the first week of school.  She seemed to quite believe it.  So, since last year, I kind of had a feeling she may have liked Ron, and now I've been working on getting Ron to stop seeing her as _Looney_…I kind of thought, maybe…you know…what do you think?"

Harry had a sinking feeling as he realized he might have just slightly, pushed Neville into going after Luna now to only have him compete with Ron for her.  This just wasn't going right.

Hermione was nodding though, "Yes, I think that would help him.  Good thinking, Gin."  She turned to Harry, still nodding eagerly, "Don't you agree, Harry?"  

Harry just grimaced, making her stop her nodding, as he explained, "Well," he knew this was bound to blow up in their faces--all of it, "I think Ron may have competition.  I don't think he's the only one who may have thought of fancying Luna."

"What?" Ginny asked, incredulously.

"What do you mean?  Who?" Hermione demanded.

Harry took a step back and hit the wall in the cramped loo as he tried to put some distance between himself and the two scheming females. "Er, easy now," he tried to laugh to calm them down.  It didn't work.  "See, I think, I mean I'm not sure.  You know us blokes, we're so thick we don't notice--"

"Cut it, Potter, and spill!  Who?" Ginny looked close to dangerous and Harry was dimly aware he should prepare to block a Bat-Bogey Hex any time now.  

"Neville," Harry answered with a gulp.

"Neville?" the girls chorused together in unified disbelief.

"Why?" Hermione asked, not willing to believe anything she herself did not understand.

Harry figured he wasn't to blame for this so he could just explain it as he saw it.  "Well, it's just the way he was looking at her.  I dunno.  I could be wrong, but I just kind of thought he might."  Now was definitely not the time to tell Hermione that when Neville looked disappointed to have to let Luna out of his sight to go the Prefect's car, he had given Neville the Prefect badge.  Definitely not a good time.  "He wanted to be around her, I thought," he said meekly. 

Hermione seemed to survey this information carefully.  "Yes," she began, "he did look to spot her right away when he showed up and then he even sat next to her, remember?"  Ginny nodded, looking crestfallen to have hit a snag in her plans so soon.  

"Well if Ron really does like her, then he'll just have to work at it," Hermione said as Ginny nodded.

"Hey!" a voice called from the other side of the door.  The voice was easily recognized as Tonks.  "Who's taking so long in the loo?  You fall in there or something?"

They heard her hand rattling the doorknob and Hermione hurriedly spelled the door open and pulled Tonks in, "Get in here."

Tonks squeezed in the already cramped tiny room and looked around at the cloistered group.  "What are you all doing in here that requires an Imperturbment Charm, eh?" she asked with some amusement.

Ginny said, "The same thing we always do in the loo--" Harry felt some growing horror inside himself, "talking."  _Oh.  Thank god._

"Oh," said Tonks, "what are we talking about then?"

The three all looked around at each other and they all answered at the same time.

"Classes," Hermione said.

"Snape, "Ginny said.

"Quidditch," Harry said.

They all looked guilty then as they dropped they eyes to the floor.

Tonks, though, was bouncing on her toes and clapping as she squealed, "Ooh!  Secrets!  C'mon, tell me!  Please, please, please?"

Harry was quite sure the last thing he needed was yet another scheming female mind to add to this already plotting group and he was even more sure he did not want his so-called love life to be shared with just anybody.

"Maybe we should, you might be able to help," Hermione said much to Harry's displeasure.  She rolled her eyes at seeing his horrified face and said, "Oh, Harry, girls are good at these things.  She'll help."  Harry doubted it very much.

"Yay!" Tonks squealed again.  "Ok, tell, tell."

"Well," Hermione said matter-of-factly, "you know how Harry and I are together, right?"

Tonks nodded, "Yeah, yeah, old news. Go on."

"What?!"  Harry twisted in the tiny, cramped room to stare at Tonks.  "How would _you know?  And what do you mean 'old news'?!"_

 Tonks just rolled her eyes at Harry, "Hello, Potter, who do you think told her how to put the moves on you, huh?"  Harry's jaw dropped as Tonks turned back to Hermione and said, "Does he know yet?  About the you-know-what?"

"What!" he demanded as he whipped his head around to drill his gaze into Hermione's blushing face.  "Do I know about _what?"_

He missed Hermione's small nod as he turned back to demand an answer from Tonks with his glare.

Tonks just smirked, "A certain book."

Harry gasped.  This brought up The Book again and after he had thought about it, he wasn't sure he was happy that he had to wait until _someone_ returned _his_ book so he could find out it was his, not to mention, a gift from Sirius.  He rounded on Hermione, nearly knocking Ginny off the washbasin, "You mean _my_ book that _Sirius_ left for _me?"_

Hermione couldn't meet his eyes and he felt Tonks clap his shoulder, "Don't blame her, Harry, I found it and told her to borrow it for a bit.  That was before you even got to Headquarters."

Not taking his eyes from Hermione, he ground out through clenched teeth, "He said the book was for me.  He hoped I would benefit from it.  But—"

"And didn't you?" said Tonks, slyly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. "Benefit from it, that is?"

Whatever else Harry was going to say in his rant that was fuelled by feeling left without a say in the plotting and the indignation of being keep from a gift from Sirius, was lost as he realized, yes, he supposed he did benefit quite well from Hermione's having read the book.  He had only had a few fleeting moments to flip through it but he had seen enough to recognize some of the very guidance and suggestions she'd had as being text quotations from the book. 

He mumbled, "Maybe."  

"Exactly, said Tonks smugly, "you can thank me later, Potter.  Now, what's the problem, girls?"

Ginny picked up filling Tonks in on their problem of fearing Ron's reaction and that all the Weasleys currently thought she and Harry were an item.  

Hermione, seemed to Harry, to still be a little embarrassed or feeling bad for taking Harry's book, or both, and was not looking at anyone.  Harry was feeling rather ashamed of his outburst now and as he heard Ginny telling the story, he felt sorry for making Hermione like this.  He reached out to pull her hand into his and gave it a squeeze, causing her to look up at him and smile back in gratitude.  

'Sorry," she mouthed to him.  

He couldn't help his smile and he drew close to whisper in her ear, "S'okay, I reckon Sirius would have thought I'd benefit more this way than if I just look--, er, read it."  He nipped at her ear with his mouth and she turned her head and he held her face to his for a kiss.  

They almost forgot they weren't alone until Ginny, in a falsely high voice, said, "Hem, hem.  We're still here, you know!"  

Tonks snickered at this as Harry and Hermione pulled apart and said, "Sounds like you three got a right conundrum, you do.  I just don't understand why you just don't tell him.  Just get it over with.  It sounds like he'll be a little ticked off no matter what."

Hermione cleared her throat and wiped the corner of her mouth.  "Yes, well, it's just been a matter of timing and hoping to minimize how mad he'll be.  But you are right, of course."  She turned to Harry, "Now's as good a time as any, don't you think?"

Harry nodded.  "Sure.  I just want to get this over with."

And with that, they agreed and opened the door to finally file out of the tiny room and into the train corridor.

"Well, well," a voice drawled, "if it isn't Potty and—let's see—his fan club." Draco Malfoy stood outside the door to the loo, alone and looking pointedly at the three girls and Harry spilling out of the room.  "Still with a Weasel and a Mudblood, eh, Potter?" He surveyed Ginny with a lewd rake of his eyes and said, "At least you traded in for one that might offer some _benefits."    _

Malfoy had obviously not cared to notice Tonks, who, with her casual clothing and youthful face, probably was passing for an unknown student.  Tonks didn't take well to being ignored and stepped in front of Harry who already had his arm ready to whip out his wand, if need be.  "And what do you have to say about me, ickle Draco?  Hmm?"

Malfoy just looked her up and down with a sneer and snorted, "Who cares about you?"

In a flash, Tonks had her wand pointed at Draco's forehead and she leaned in close and snarled at him, "Your father seemed to care when I was helping to whoop his arse and send him off to Azkaban."  

Harry could see the resemblance Tonks had to Sirius when she was angry now and he was quite content to sit back and watch Malfoy be humiliated at the mention of his father, the convicted Death Eater.  

Malfoy, after suppressing his panic, regained his stoic look of unconcern and, despite the wand pointed at his head, spit out, "Students aren't allowed to pull wands, fight, or use magic on the train.  I'll have you reported."

Harry heard Hermione snort with the irony of Malfoy's words he held her back with a hand on her arm as Tonks threw back her head and laughed, saying, "Well, it's a good thing I'm not a student now, isn't it?"  She sobered and demanded then, "Now you still need to use the facilities or have I sufficiently scared the piss out of you?"

Harry couldn't help the short laugh that escaped as he watched Tonks needle Malfoy into his place.  Malfoy shot Harry a vicious glare as she said, "Laugh it up, Potter.  I'll be watching you."

"Is everything under control, here?" came Dumbledore's voice from behind them.  Harry whirled around to see him in an emerald robe, peering through his half-moon glasses.  There was no twinkle, he noted.

"Yeah, yeah," Tonks said, still not taking her eyes from Draco, "I was just helping little Malfoy find his way in the big world."  She stepped aside and flourished her hand to the door of the loo, allowing Malfoy to draw himself back up, trying to look impeccably important and to enter the empty room and slam the door in their faces.

"Nymphadora," Dumbledore said as he shook his head, "flashy, as always."

"Yeah," Tonks said, not looking anywhere near contrite.  "Well, are you guys off to your compartment now?  Need an escort?"  She motioned for Ginny to lead the way and followed her, still looking ready for a fight.

Harry turned back to Professor Dumbledore and felt he ought to say something about having handed off his Prefect badge.  "Erm, sir?  Could I have a word?"

Dumbledore looked at him blankly and said, "Well, it will have to be quick and it isn't very private here, Harry."

Harry just nodded and said vaguely, "Well, I wanted to make sure you were okay with what I did?  You know," he dropped his voice and mouthed, "with Neville?"

Dumbledore still looked blankly at Harry and Harry even let his mind open to the image of him handing the badge to Neville to help communicate of what he was speaking.  Dumbledore answered, "Well, that seems fine for now, Harry.  If there is more to it, we should discuss it later.  Remind me."  He followed Harry and the others then to their compartment and bid them later, leaving Harry to feel slightly uncomfortable with Dumbledore's reaction.

Back in the compartment, Neville had returned and as soon as he saw Harry, he said, "Hey!  Guess what?  I talked to McGonagall and she said she could enroll me NEWT Potions, isn't that great?"  

Harry nodded and looked to Ron who widened his eyes at this. "Really?" he said.  "Hey, maybe I should find her now and ask?  What do you think, Harry?"  

Harry nodded eagerly at Ron and felt that the good news of being able to take the courses for being an Auror could only help put Ron in a good mood to help him with the other news they had for him.

Ron grinned and leapt up, "I'm going to find her.  I'll be back," and with that he strode out of the car and left, bumping into Dean and Seamus on his way out.

"Hey Ron," Seamus said in greeting, "later Ron," he called after him.

"Hey," said Dean as he slipped in and Harry saw Ginny light up and grin at him as she patted the seat beside her.

"How about this?" asked Seamus who settled himself next to Neville.  "All these Aurors and Dumbledore himself on the train?"  He eyed Harry and said, "Hey there, mate.  You—you have a fine holiday?"

Harry's eyes glanced quickly at Hermione across the car as she winked back at him.  "It was alright.  How about you?"

 "Fine.  Did you hear—"

"Hey, Harry!" said Ernie Macmillan stopped by the open door to the car with Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones peering over his shoulder.  "Did you all hear the news?  Slytherin's had to get two new Prefects this year?  I reckon you already told them all," he said looking at Hermione. 

Harry grinned and nodded at the news, "So who are the new Prefects—are both Malfoy and Pansy out?"

"Yeah," Ernie grinned, "both Malfoy and Parkinson are out—anyone who was on that Inquisitional squad was released.  Likely on the basis of their lack of loyalty to Dumbledore."

"Blaise Zabini and Tracey Davis are Slytherin's new Prefects for our year," Hermione said to answer Harry's question.

Hannah squeezed past Ernie and smiled at Harry as she sat down across from him, beside Hermione.  "I reckon you've already heard who was voted the new Head Girl, Harry?"

"Er, not really," he said, shaking his head.  

"Hey, you guys are blocking the corridor," came Cho Chang's voice from outside the car.  Harry suddenly had a very good idea of who won the voting for Head Girl.  "The Aurors have asked us to keep the aisles cleared—you all know that."

Harry was staring, panic-stricken, across at Hermione who was likewise, staring back, but with much less panic.  

"Oh, hello, Harry," she said.  He felt himself try to shrink and he entertained a fleeting thought of disapparating from the car but instead Ernie and Susan parted to make way for Harry to see Cho standing in the doorway.  "I was looking for you actually.  Can I have a word in the corridor, please?"  

With no other option but to nod and go, Harry swallowed down the taste of discomfort and followed her out into the corridor.

He noted the silver badge with "HG" on it on her robes as she looked down the corridor and said quietly, "This is kind of personal, but…here," she turned to the door to the loo where Harry had already been stuffed inside with Hermione, Ginny and Tonks, "let's go in here."

Once inside, he was amazed how aware he was as to how utterly cramped it felt.  It was only two people now and he was aware it should have felt like there was more room, because, indeed there was.   The nerves he felt now, being alone with her, were not the same that he had felt the year before.  These were distinctly more—uncomfortable.

"Er," she began and he could see her blush as she fidgeted with her hands, "I had wanted to write you, Harry, this summer.  I did, but I thought what I had to say would be best in person, really.  Did you—did you have a nice summer, Harry?"

Harry tried to lean back against the washbasin to give himself more room between him and Cho as he answered, "Yeah, yeah I did.  And you?  How was your summer?"

"Oh," she smiled up at Harry in a way that made him inch back again, "I was fine.  You cut your hair, I see.  I like it."  Her hand reached up slowly as if to stroke his hair and he quickly backed up and perched upon the ledge of the basin and she withdrew her hand.  

"Er, you wanted to ask me something?" he prompted, now feeling a bit like a cornered animal and wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.  

She sat herself on the closed lid of the toilet and said slowly, "Well, I wanted to apologize about how we left things last year.  I know, especially after this summer, that last year must have been a very, well, difficult year for you."  Harry couldn't help but snort.  _She has no idea.  She seemed to take heart from his seemingly seeing humor at her poor attempt at a joke and went on.  "I think if we just gave ourselves another chance, that we might have a better go of it this year."  _

Does she mean what I think she means?  "You mean…," he motioned between himself and her, "us?"

She nodded and stood up and stepped in front of him, placing one hand on each knee and whispered, "Us."

Harry looked down at her hands on his knees, his panic growing, and reached to remove her hands but as he touched them to remove them, she laced her fingers through his and tried to lean in, for what Harry realized with terror, was mean to be a kiss.  He slid off the ledge he was on and, although he meant to slip around her and get away, she caught his waist and neck and was dragging his face to hers.  He felt her lips pressing against his and his eyes were wide with shock as he watched her face, realizing that this was not good if he could see every eyelash and freckle on her face.  

As he broke away, he pulled her hands away from his body and held them again (thinking it was better than letting them wander of their own accord).  "I—I can't.  No—I can't," he finally managed out.  "You see, there—there's someone else."

The rapid change in her expression from one of blissful hope to stricken sadness was so sudden, that Harry flinched and steeled himself for the onslaught of inevitable tears.  Instead, she yanked her hands back and he got an icy glare.  "I see.  Well."  

This new attitude from Cho was almost more frightening than the huntress-after-her-prey look she had just been wearing and Harry made a note to not mention, even if she asked, that it was Hermione. "I won't even ask.  I guess we're done here, then."  With that, she threw open the door and stomped past him and away.  

Harry stepped out and shook his head to clear his mind as he returned to the compartment.

"Hey! Harry!" Ron was standing in the crowded car, obviously just returned from talking to McGonagall, clapped Harry on the back as he walked in.  "I got in.   I was just telling everyone about Potions without Snape."  

Several others, many members from last year's DA were all crowding into the car.  

"Hey, you don't reckon he finally got he Defense job, do you?" Lavender Brown asked.

"No way," several people answered all at once.  Harry saw Hermione giving him a reproachful look and felt the urge to leave this conversation before he was asked such a question, himself.

"Be back in a few, I need to ask, er--Tonks, something," Harry whispered to Ron.  Ron just nodded and chimed in to the continuing speculation about Snape's new position, "If he does teach Defense, we'll just have to do the DA again.  He won't teach us anything."

Harry slipped quickly down the corridor through several compartments.  Towards the back of the train, he found an empty compartment and he sat down there, to stare out the window at the rapidly passing landscape.

It was an indefinite time later when a voice startled him from his thoughts.  "Already feeling the need to be alone, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he sat across from Harry.

Harry looked at him and again noted, that although he could certainly sense a genuine concern, there was something much less twinkly and more—tired—in the headmaster this day.  "I suppose so.  The car was getting a bit overcrowded." 

Harry's thought had, during his introspective solitude, been drifting to Sirius.  It seemed a reflex that when he was immersed among people who were jovial and happy, that he would begin to think of all the reasons he had to not be happy.  His thoughts would drift to those things that he felt he ought to be thinking about instead of wasting his time arguing who had the better Keeper: Kenmare or Chudley, joking about what classes were likely to be taught by Snape, or other meaningless banter that was common to other teenagers.  He couldn't help but think of Voldemort, the prophesy, Sirius—any number of things that would make him suddenly feel miles away from everyone else and years older.  He had come to the conclusion that it was worse to feel isolated in a large group of people than to just physically isolate himself.  

"Sir, I was meaning to ask you something," Harry said, looking back at Dumbledore who had been watching him.  "Actually, I was meaning to talk to Remus about it, but I just never got around to it."  Dumbledore looked as if he wanted to stop Harry from saying whatever he was about to say but was not quick enough as Harry said quietly; "It's about the Celebration—for Sirius."

"Oh," Dumbledore said, and then much more spryly than Harry would have expected, he quickly moved to sit next to Harry.  "Harry, it's me.  Remus," he said with a lopsided smile, quite unlike Dumbledore would ever give.  

Harry stared at the man who appeared to be Professor Dumbledore in one of his usual richly colored robes.  But as Harry looked into the eyes, he recalled he had thought there was something odd about Dumbledore today and he now recognized the tiredness in the eyes as that tiredness that Remus always had.  "Polyjuice," Harry breathed out, still scrutinizing the differences in facial expression on Remus.  

The grin grew wider now, more Dumbledore-like, and Remus said, "Yup.  My disguise."

Harry grinned back and said, "I knew something was different about you, today—I mean about Dumbledore."  

"Really?  What gave me away?"

Harry's grin turned smug as he answered, "You don't twinkle enough."

"Uh, oh.  He warned me not to lose his twinkling reputation."

Harry laughed outright and said incredulously, "He knows he twinkles?"

Remus-as-Dumbledore nodded solemnly.  "It appears so."

Harry's laughter died down and he shook his head and grimaced, "How many doses of that do have to take?  At least eight?"  His face soured even more as he recalled the nasty taste and texture of the gloppy Polyjuice potion.  "Blergh!  I think I'd rather drink Skele-gro."

Remus nodded dolefully then stopped and gave Harry a very Dumbledore-like piercing look and asked, "How do you know what Polyjuice tastes like?"

"Erm, well,"  _Bugger_.  

Remus just nodded once and sighed as he said, "Well, I reckon I'm not too surprised.  James and Sirius managed to brew it finally in fifth year.  Took a year to get all the ingredients and to get it right after they found it."

Harry perked up at that and couldn't help a smug grin as he said, "Second year.  First try."

At the very un-Dumbledore-like look of shock, Harry added, "Hermione brewed it.  We just helped get the –oh, never mind."

"I won't even ask," Remus said, waving the matter aside.  "Now what about Sirius?"

"Oh."  Harry was happier to be in a lighter mood now than when he first thought he was speaking to Professor Dumbledore.  It made this a lot easier to talk about. "Well, I know Dumbledore said we might have had a Celebration at the end of summer for him, but, well, I guess I'm not too disappointed we didn't.  I'm not sure I would have been ready.  But, as you—Remus—are, well, I reckon that is, that you're missing him just as much and –what I mean to say—"  Harry sighed as he realized this wasn't easy to talk about, no matter what.  "It sounded like Dumbledore would arrange it when the time was right.  I just—I haven't forgotten about it—but now I don't know when we can have it.  I reckoned it's up to you, as well. What do you think?"

Remus was nodding and looking at his lap.  "Yes.  I know."  He sighed deeply and said, "I think something in me wants to see his name cleared."  He looked at Harry and went on, "But who knows how long that might be with there not even being a body."  He shook his head, "I should just try to forget that."

"No, I'd like that too," said Harry.  "But, I guess you're right.  It's even been advantageous to have them think he's still alive."

Remus just nodded silently and they thought to themselves for a few minutes.  

Harry broke the silence asking, "How would people who were not in the Order get in to Grimmauld Place if it was there?  Does it have to be there?"

"It can be anywhere," said Remus who appeared startled at Harry's questions.  He recovered quickly though and commented, "He was probably happiest at Hogwarts of all places, I reckon."

"Can we have it there?" Harry asked.  While Grimmauld place was not the grim old place it had been the previous summer, Harry still occasionally felt a rising resentment for the place when he though of Sirius's unhappy life there.  Although, on the other hand, he also felt he was giving Sirius' memory some satisfaction to enjoy the place's new Gryffindor décor.

"It's a possibility—it would probably have to be over holidays—Christmas, perhaps, though," Remus said musingly.

Harry was nodding.  That was sounding like something he might like.  "He was happy last Christmas."

A few moments of reminiscing silence went by and Remus said, "Should we aim for Christmas, then?  Either way—whether it's at Hogwarts or Grimmauld, it would be best over a holiday.  You agree?"

Harry nodded and after about a half hour, Remus pulled out a flagon of what appeared to be pumpkin juice and swallowed, grimacing.  "Well, I best make the rounds and be seen then," he said as he left Harry alone again.

It was only a few minutes later that Harry heard the compartment door open again and he looked over to see Hermione, bringing a smile to his face.  

"Hey," he said.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore said he'd just been talking with you in here.  Is everything alright?" she asked as she sat down beside him.

Harry nodded and couldn't help but put his arm around her and hold her near.  

Hermione only gave him a moment though before pulling away and saying, "We should change."  She looked at Harry expectantly.  "Our trunks?" she prompted.

"Oh," Harry grinned and reached into his pocket and pulled out two shrunken trunks. "_Engorgio_," hesaid, pointing his wand at them to make them grow to resume their normal size.

They pulled out their robes and donned them over their clothes.  

"What did Cho want?" Hermione asked, trying to sound casual.

Harry just pulled a face and said, "Apparently—me."  Hermione looked up at him quickly, her mouth open and he assured her, "No—she tried to—I mean—oh, hell, she wanted for _us_ to try things again.  That's what she said.  But—don't worry—I told her there was someone else."

Hermione looked to flit between being pleased and anxious.  "Did you tell her who?"

Harry shook his head.  "She didn't ask and I didn't tell. She got quite shirty—nah—downright frigid is more like it, when I told her that." 

Hermione just nodded and said, "I imagine she was upset at having you slip through her fingers.  Lavender told me that you were listed in Witch Weekly a few weeks back as a 'Wanted Wizard'."  At Harry's stricken look she explained quickly, "It's like an eligible bachelor list.  She said it had a recent picture—sounds like it was taken in Diagon Alley sometime this summer when you were there."  Then Hermione added, slightly annoyed, "She offered to let me see the article later –apparently she's saved it."

Harry just tried to mentally obliviate this news from his mind.  "Okay then."  He snuck a kiss from Hermione before she could protest and grinned as he said, "Should we head back?"

The rest of the train ride was uneventful.  Luna was engrossed in showing Neville pictures from her trip to Sweden over the holidays and Harry noted that Ginny and Ron were both giving them sour looks.   After a while of watching this, Ginny turned to Harry and leaned over and whispered in his ear, "We'll have to wait to tell Ron until we can be alone."

Harry understood and had no desire to have any witnesses to the event.  He actually caught a small nap as the afternoon wore on.

Finally, he felt a hand shaking his shoulder and woke to see Hermione smiling and saying, "We're here."

He stretched and yawned as he stood up to straighten out the kink in his neck and back.

Ron nudged him and said, "What was Cho on about before, mate?  You send her on her way?"  

Harry grinned back and nodded, "You could say that.  She wasn't too pleased."

As they filed out of the car and stepped off the train and into the crisp autumn evening air, Ron asked, "Did she turn all hosepipe on you?"

"Nah, not this time," Harry said as he fell in behind Ron, as part of a mass of students.  He pulled up and turned back, looking for Hermione.  She and the others were still doing their Prefect duties and helping supervise the unloading of the train.  She was now walking beside Ginny, after Neville and Luna and he waited patiently for them to catch up.  When they caught up, they all paused and looked ahead.  Harry and Ron turned to see what they were looking at and Harry saw the Thestral-pulled carriages.  

_Oh_.  He hadn't see those since…well, he definitely could guess what everyone else was thinking right about now.  This was the same group—the same six people who had left last June with him to the Department of Mysteries.  He felt a tremendous swell of gratitude for these people who, half of which, he had tried to convince to stay behind, but had refused and demanded to come along.  They had all been willing to follow him on into whatever danger was in store for him and all because they wouldn't let him do it alone.  

Ginny broke the reverent silence as they had been staring at the Thestrals (or in the case of Ginny, Hermione and Ron—staring at where the Thestrals would be) by grabbing Harry for a quick hug to her side as she said, "Don't even say it, Potter.  I'll hex you so bad if you start apologizing."

They all laughed and Harry smiled, "Thanks.  All of you—thanks."

"Any more firs' years? Firs' years over here!" the booming voice of Hagrid could now be heard and Harry smiled immediately upon hearing it and turned to see him beckoning the last few straggling first year students to head down the trail to the lake.  Hagrid waved when he saw Ron, Harry, and Hermione all smiling at him.  

"Let's hurry—I'm starved," Ron said as he rushed forth to claim a carriage for them.  

"You're always hungry," Harry said as he scrunched in between Ginny and Hermione.  He almost laughed as he spotted Luna squished between Neville and Ron across the carriage.  

Ginny whispered to Harry while Ron commented again on his hunger, "Hermione and I say after the feast we can tell him, in the common room."  Harry just nodded his understanding.

Quickly they were passing through the gates, flanked with winged boar statues and rolling up the castle drive and Harry could see through the window, the almost crescent moon in the western sky.  The return to Hogwarts had always symbolized a new beginning to Harry and this year was no different.  It felt like more than a mere two months since he had left here, but, nonetheless, Harry was happy to be home.

They joined the throng of students walking up the steps to the castle and Harry felt Hermione give his hand a squeeze in the cover of darkness.  He squeezed hers back.  As they entered the castle and turned towards the doors to the Great Hall, Harry saw Filch craning his neck over the students and looking around.  As the caretaker caught sight of Harry, he called out as if he'd just spotted a wanted criminal, "Potter!  Potter!  Get over here, boy!"

Harry looked at Ron and Hermione who just shrugged and Ron said, "Beats me, mate.  We'll save you a seat."

Harry wormed his way through the students flowing into the Great Hall, saying hello to many greetings from others.  Finally he arrived by Filch who growled, "Barely in the doors and the headmaster already wants a word with ye, sounds like trouble to me.  This way."  Harry made a face as he followed the cynical Filch around the entrance to the Great Hall, down the hall and into a back room that Harry recalled from the night his name came out of the Goblet of Fire.  

"Ah, Harry, here you are," Professor Dumbledore was standing and talking with Firenze the centaur as Harry entered the room.  "Thank you, Argus."

"Professor, Firenze," Harry greeted them and noted that the real Dumbledore was dressed in robes of deep red, unlike Remus the Polyjuice Dumbledore had been.

Firenze nodded his head in greeting and extended a hand to Harry as he stepped towards him and said, "Harry Potter, good evening."

Harry shook his hand and said, "Evening," and then watched Firenze leave the room.  He turned back to Professor Dumbledore and saw that, indeed, this Dumbledore was twinkly as only, apparently, the real Dumbledore could be.

"Harry, I see you are not wearing the badge I gave you.  Am I to assume you have found a better home for it?"  

Harry never ceased to be amazed at the speed with which Dumbledore knew things. "Yes, sir.  I hope I haven't, well, I hope that is alright."  Dumbledore merely smiled expectantly at him and Harry went on, "I gave it to Neville.  I think he would be a much better choice than myself."  Harry waited for any disappointment Dumbledore may have at his handing it off without permission.

Instead he got a smile and Dumbledore nodded and said, "A fine choice, fine choice.  Even more difficult for me to choose those who would serve the school and myself well in the role as school Prefect, is often finding those who are not only responsible and reliable, but those who their peers see as a leader and a role model.  If you as his peer can see him as such, then it is so."

Harry smiled in relief and nodded.

"Besides," Dumbledore went on, "I now have a new, last-minute request to make of you.  The spare time you gained by declining the Prefect position will serve you well if you can help me out."

"What, what is it Professor?"  Harry knew that requests from Dumbledore were rarely as easy to turn down or even to pass along as he did with the Prefect badge, so it was with some wariness that Harry waited to hear the request.

Dumbledore smiled disarmingly and said, "Well, I believe Professor Snape has been seeing to his schedule and making arrangements for his new position, however, he has expressed a desire to remain teaching Potions to the NEWT level classes.  Our new Potions instructor is much less experienced than Professor Snape—he is after all a Potions Master, and he had taken great care to prepare his curriculum for this upcoming year and does not want to trust just anyone with the advanced levels."  Harry's heart sunk.  _Snape would be teaching Potions again.  _

"There are only two sections of Potions he will teach then, one of which occurs at an free period with regards to the Defense schedule, however, seventh year Potions conflicts with the Third years' Defense class, creating a bit of a problem for us."

Harry was thinking of Ron and Neville who had quickly signed up to take Potions on Harry's word that Snape was no longer teaching it.  _They're going to kill me.  _

"I would like to ask you, Harry, if you might consent to teach this class of Third years?"

_Third years?  Teach?_  "Huh?"

"Teaching.  Your third year was probably your most well taught of Defense.  You've received more training in Defense than anyone else here, Harry."

"Me?"  Harry was slowly catching up to what Dumbledore was asking.

"Yes, you.  You've proved quite capable as a teacher last year when you helped so many of your fellow students learn Defense and perform so well on their examinations.  We've never had so many excellent scores on Defense OWLs, Harry.  And considering the professor's your year has had, that's saying something.  Would do me this favor?  It's only one class on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and it already fits into your schedule," he pleaded.

"But, Potions, sir, there are some who just signed up now for it—Professor McGonagall let them sign up—Ron—he doesn't meet Snape's requirements for the class—he'll be crushed…." Harry trailed off, desperately hoping to not have to tell Ron that Snape was now back to teaching Potions, in addition to their Defense class, and that Ron might no longer be allowed to take Potions now.

"I see," Dumbledore said.  "Well, I can assure you that if Professor McGonagall already gave her word, then it shall remain so.  Professor Snape will have to understand that.  Ronald should still be able to keep the class as long as he continues to meet the course requirements.

"I already have a course syllabus for you to use—I can count on you then, Harry?"

Harry nodded lamely, not really seeing any choice but to agree.  

"Harry, don't look so shocked.  If your peers can see you as a worthy role model—one from whom they can learn, then it is so.  Third years much younger than you will have no problem regarding you with respect and as a worthy teacher."  He clapped Harry on the shoulder and added, "Now, I believe the Sorting may be coming to a close.  I will make the announcements after the Feast.  Let us go—you may enter the Hall through here," he said as he gestured to a door that lead to the entrance by the side of the head table.  

They walked out and saw that there were only a few left to be sorted and they both waited by the door, for the sorting to end.  Harry craned his neck around to try to see Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table, but instead kept seeing other people looking at him, craning their necks back to see him and Professor Dumbledore standing off to the side of the head table.  

As the last student was sorted into Hufflepuff, Dumbledore leaned in and whispered to Harry, "Off we go—and let us hope this year is a much better one than the last."  

Harry smiled at the same thought he had already had several times today as he conspicuously made his way across the front of the tables to the other Gryffindors, feeling the eyes of nearly all the other students upon him.

He slid onto the bench beside Hermione and across from Ron and looked back up to the head table where Dumbledore stood, waiting for him to be seated before he began his speech.  He thought Ron looked a little miffed at something but thought not much of it.

"I am most happy to welcome our new students and to our old—welcome back!" he said smiling warmly.  "Now, food before words—tuck in!"

The tables filled with food and Hermione immediately leaned in, "You missed the Sorting—what happened?"

Reaching to fill his plate before Ron piled it all on his plate, or lost it splattering all the food around the table, Harry whispered back without enthusiasm, "You'll find out in the announcements.  How was the Sorting?  How was the song?"  After his last bout with the Sorting Hat, Harry was interested in what this year's song had been.

Hermione pointed to her bag on the floor by her feet and said, "I got it all with my Quoting Quill.  You'll need to read it later.  It gave more warnings and advice again."  

Harry raised his eyebrows at this as he took a mouthful of chicken and ham pie, but stopped as he looked squarely across at Ron who was no longer just appearing to be a little miffed but was now ripping into his food with a vicious aggression and almost snarling as he gulped down his pumpkin juice and slammed the goblet down upon the table, oblivious to drink splattering and slopping over onto Ginny's plate. 

 "Ron!"  Ginny pulled a face at her brother and admonished, "What the bloody hell is your problem!"

Harry saw Hermione tense at Ron's behavior out of the corner of his eye as she was determinedly keeping her eyes on her own plate.

Ron swallowed and said, "You know exactly what my problem is!"  Harry saw several others down the table jump at Ron's voice and look down the table at them.  Ron looked up with a glare now at Harry and demanded, "Where were you, Harry?  What did Filch want?"

Harry just looked up and recalled that Dumbledore had promised that Ron would still be able to take Potions even if Snape was now teaching it.  _Funny way to start a new year and still hope it's better than the last—all we know so far is Snape is teaching two classes—urgh.  Harry grimaced at the thought, set down his fork, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.  He knew whatever had Ron in a bad mood was, hopefully, worse than the news that Potions as well as Defense would now be with Snape.  _

He placed his glasses back on his face with a sigh and said, "You'll find out.  But don't worry—you're alright."

Ron leaned across and with a beady look, asked, "Does this have anything to do with our newest _professor?"  He practically growled the word as if it were not worthy to cross his lips and then shot a scathing glare at the head table._

"Oh, Ron!"  Hermione slammed down her hands upon the table.  "Drop it!"

"What are you on about?" Harry asked Ron, not sure if he really wanted to know.

"What—what am," Ron sputtered, "what am I on about?  Him!"  He pointed up at the head table and Harry looked up to see all the usual staff in place and then he saw, beside Snape, eating quietly, Viktor Krum.

Harry smiled faintly. "Viktor, I wonder if…" _he must be the inexperienced one who's teaching Potions_.

"Yes—_Viktor_—one guess what he's showed up for," Ron spat, glaring up at the head table.

"Potions, Ron, he's here to teach Potions," Ginny said as if she were speaking to a young child.

Ron just mumbled as he bit into a drumstick, "As if that's all."

The feast progressed in silence among their section of the Gryffindor table.  Harry tried to clear his plate but his stomach was fluttering nervously.  Ron was in a foul mood now and he was not looking forward to having to heap on him the news that Viktor Krum was no longer the one he should be jealous off as to who held Hermione's affections.  He was also growing nervous as the pudding appeared, signally the last course of the feast, after which, it would announced he was teaching the Third years Defense. 

"Aren't you having any pudding?" Hermione asked him.

He shook his head and said, "Nah, I'm full."  Hermione gave him a sympathetic look and squeezed his knee under the table.  He had a feeling she knew he was nervous about Ron's foul mood.

"You, know," said Ron as he licked the back of his spoon, "if Krum is teaching Potions, I reckon I'd be better off just dropping the course and studying for the NEWT myself.  Whatdaya reckon, Harry?"

"Well…" Harry didn't want to totally hack Ron off with the news of Snape still teaching it for them.  He had begun to think it was a horse a piece as to which would get his hackles raised more: Snape or Krum as a professor.

Then Harry heard the din of the Hall grow quiet and he looked up front to see Professor Dumbledore standing at the head table, waiting for the chatter to die away before beginning his speech.

"So—now we are all watered and fed, I would ask for your attention for the start of term notices.  First years and above should all note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden—more so than ever.  I must stress how very dangerous, indeed, it has become of late.  

"Mr. Filch, our caretaker has asked me to remind you all that magic in the corridors is prohibited and that the list of objects forbidden within the castle has been revised and expanded since last year.  Please see the list posted on his door.  

"Tryouts for House Quidditch teams will be at the end of the week, please see Madam Hooch or the team captains for tryout information.

"And finally, we have some staff changes and additions to announce this year.  I would like to formally welcome back into our service Professors Trelawney and Hagrid." Harry and those around him clapped enthusiastically for Hagrid and he saw Lavender and Pavarti clapping just as hard for Trelawney. "Also, many of you know Firenze, who served as an interim professor of Divination last term, he is here now to teach a new, old class at Hogwarts—one we haven't offered for many years—Healing.  This class is a an elective for Third years and above."  There was much clapping for Firenze and Harry noted many girls were giggling and clapping and whispering amongst themselves as they gazed up at the blond centaur standing off to the side of the head table.  

"A new addition to our staff this year, some may recall Viktor Krum who was our Triwizard Champion from Durmstrang Academy two years ago—he joins us now to teach Potions to Fifth years and below." There was some hesitant applause for him and Harry made sure to clap despite Ron's sputtering across the table and others' questioning looks.  "Sixth and Seventh Years will remain with Professor Snape for NEWT level Potions."  Harry was vaguely aware that Neville seemed to have fainted into his pudding and Ron seemed a cross between giddy and nervous.

"Now, the ever-changing position of the professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts shall be held by Professor Snape."  No applause.  Only silence punctuated by a few clattering pieces of silverware.  Harry thought he heard Neville whimper into his pudding.  "However, since Professor Snape has such a range of teaching duties this year, it was necessary for one year to be scheduled with a different teacher."  Harry was holding his breath—he hated being the center of attention.  Had he not been oblivious to everyone else around him, he would have noticed that they were _all_ holding their breath—hoping to be the one year not having Defense with Snape.  "Third years," a collective moan was heard as the other years were dealt a disappointment and several Third years could be seen grinning and pumping their fists, "will be taught defense by an Assistant Professor, a student-- Harry Potter."  A smattering of applause began and then grew—much more than the silence Snape had received, and Harry tried not to look pleased.  

He heard Colin Creevey call from down the table, "Way to go, Harry!  Dennis is in there!"  

Harry also heard several other Gryffindors mumbling such as he heard Lavender say, "If Harry taught us last year and we did fine, why can't he just teach us all again?  Snape—_god_—this is going to be _awful_!"  

"Now," Dumbledore tried to regain the attention of the students, "let me remind you all to strive to remain strong in our friendships and to know that united, we cannot fall!  Now!  The school song—" he gave his wand a flick and the word flew out upon a ribbon, "Pick your favorite tune and off we sing!"

Harry sang the song as Hermione keep looking back at him and grinning at him.  He wasn't sure what she was so happy about—they just found out they had two classes now with Snape—this wasn't good news.  Harry saw Ron was just sitting sullenly, not singing a single note whatsoever.

"Now, off to bed and goodnight!"  Dumbledore said.  Harry saw Ginny smile at him and then be dragged away by Colin as they beckoned the First year Gryffindors to follow them to the dormitories.

"I'm so proud of you," Hermione whispered as they departed from the Great Hall and headed towards Gryffindor Tower.  

Harry smiled at her flirtatious smile and asked, "Where's Ron, now?"  They paused and looked about and saw Ron still in the Great Hall, speaking to Professor McGonagall at the table where Neville still seemed to have his forehead glued to his plate.  

"Neville doesn't look too pleased," Harry said.  "C'mon, let's get them."  

They made their way back into the Hall and heard McGonagall sternly speaking to Ron, "Mr. Weasley, you were very adamant in your desired course of study this very afternoon.  I made more than one allowance for you this term and if you are so determined to let one person stand in the way of your chosen career, then perhaps you are not suited for that career after all."  She turned to Neville and rather harshly said, "Mr. Longbottom!  You are not fooling me—I know you are perfectly well awake.  Now clean off your chin and stop making a mockery of our House-- before I take points—both of you!"  She turned on her heal and walked towards the doors muttering, "Bravery, my arse."  She came to a halt seeing Harry and Hermione, "Potter—Granger—do _you_ have a problem, too?"

Harry had to hide a snicker at her language and said, "No, Professor.  We're here to get those two up to the Tower."

She rolled her eyes and left.  Ron was pushing away his plate and standing up and Neville was wiping his face with a napkin.  

"Come on you two, let's go," Hermione called.

Harry and Hermione followed them up to the tower in silence, trading concerned glances every now and then.  

"_Mirabile dictu_," Hermione said the password, making the portrait of the Fat Lady swing open, allowing Ron to trod in, still sullen, and Neville to stumble in numbly after him.  

Hermione held Harry back with a hand on his arm and they watched Ron and Neville sulk up the stairway to the dormitory.  They were alone in the deserted Common Room as everyone else was settling into their dormitories, ready to fall asleep after the long journey.  

"Not so sure this would be a great time to tell him," Harry said quietly as he turned to face Hermione and held her hand in his.  He felt just awful now having convinced both Ron and Neville to elect Potions this term.

She moved in closer to lay her head on his chest and said, "Yes, I think it just might push him over the edge tonight."

Harry tilted her face up to his and caught her lips for a kiss.  It was meant to be quick but Hermione slid her arms around Harry and held his head to hers as she deepened the kiss until they were both pressed tightly against each other.  

"Wow, you two," they broke apart hastily at hearing Ginny's voice, "when you kiss, you guys really kiss."  She was smirking at them from the bottom of the girls' staircase.  "So, I take it Ron is sulking too much already?"

"Yes, Harry and I think we should wait until he's not so…"

"Foul?" Ginny offered as they nodded.  "Two classes with Snape and Krum in the castle—I'm not sure that mood's going to change too quick.  Hey—Harry, how come the third years get you and not Snape?

"Oh, er, he was supposed to teach all the Defense classes but Dumbledore said he wanted to keep the NEWT Potions classes for as Viktor was so inexperienced.  So our Potions class is a free period for him but the Seventh years' conflicts with Third year Defense…so, that's what Dumbledore wanted to ask me about."   

"Well, I think everyone would agree they'd rather have you than Snape.  Can we do the DA again this year?"

Harry saw Hermione smile at this and he nodded, "I reckon."  

"Hey," Dean said coming down the boys' staircase, "I told Ron I'd come find you, Harry.  He's well into his ranting about Snape and Krum now and he wondered where you were."  Ginny snuck around and caught Dean by surprise and grabbed his hand to bring him to her.

"No other ulterior motives, eh?" Harry asked watching them together.

"Well," Dean said looking at Ginny, "I admit, I did want to get away from Ron's ranting.  And Neville was looking a little green."

 "Ok," Hermione said pulling Harry off to a corner, "you two say goodnight over there, we'll say goodnight over here."  Harry smirked at her as she looked impishly up at him and then he pulled her in for a breathtaking snog that lasted at least five minutes.  When they pulled apart for air they saw the Dean and Ginny were still standing together with their foreheads touching by the staircases.

"I should probably try to return with you, Harry—Ron might want to come find you himself," Dean said still looking at Ginny.

Harry kissed Hermione again a few quick times and muttered, "I don't know how I'm supposed to get to sleep now."

Hermione just whispered, "Remember the silencing charms—ohh, actually an Imperturbment Charm should do the whole trick." She smiled innocently as she turned and he swatted her bum making her squawk in indignation.

"To bed with you!" He said to her as he watched her and Ginny wave and turn up to their staircase.

When they arrived in the dorm, Ron was still muttering as he pulled the covers over himself. "There you are—I swear, if I…"  Harry tuned him out and unpacked his pyjamas and changed quickly for bed.  

He was quite pleased to find out the Imperturbment Charm also worked well to keep out the sound of muttering and snoring, as well.


	22. Chapter 25 Contrary to Popular Belief

Chapter 25. Contrary to Popular Belief

"Harry, you awake?  What the…?"  

Harry was vaguely aware that he was comfortably snuggled deep under his covers and _had_ been slumbering to the tune of a sweet and somnolent lullaby, courtesy of the voices that he'd come to welcome.  "Mmph," he said as he burrowed deeper under the covers.

"Harry," he felt like something was nudging him and the whispering voice was sounding desperate. "Let me in, I need your help."

Harry was thinking it ought to sound desperate because another shake and he was about to hex the idiot waking him so early.  "Mmph," he repeated with more feeling.

"Harry!"  Harry was now aware that Ron was—_hold on, the charm's still on_.  Harry grasped his wand from under his pillow and muttered away the charm on his hangings surrounding his bed.   Ron, who must have been trying to tug open the hangings, now whipped them open as the Imperturbment Charm wore off.   Harry could feel the morning sun just peeking into the tower window and despite making a show of scrunching his eyes shut tightly, Ron was now shaking him awake and did not seem to be relenting despite Harry's attempt to formulate words to tell him to 'sod off'.  

"Huh?" he grunted, still not willing to open his eyes.

"I need your Transfiguration homework.  Where is it?" Ron whispered, tugging on Harry's pillow.  

"What?" Harry asked, more awake now and pulling his pillow protectively out of Ron's tugging hand.  "Why?"

"Because I held off on the summer homework until I knew I had the class and now it's due."  

"We don't have Transfiguration today," Harry grumbled.

"Huh?  We haven't got our timetables yet, how would you know?"

"I got mine, Charms and Defense today.  Now let me sleep."  Harry pulled the covers completely over his head and tried to steal away into dreamland.

After a brief moment, Ron resumed his prodding and whined, "But I'm up now and I still have the assignment.  How about Charms then, can I check yours?"

Harry groaned as he flung the covers off his head.  "What is your problem?  The sun's barely up!"

"Shut it over there!" Dean growled from across the room.

Ron budged over on the side of Harry's bed and crossed his arms as he grumbled, "I can't sleep and we didn't get a chance to cross check each others homework.  I'm sure Hermione went over yours--can I use it?"

Harry sighed as he tried to unstick his eyes and yawned, before peering myopically at Ron.  "What time is it?" he whispered.

"Almost six."

"Urgh," Harry groaned again, flopping his arms over his head.  

Harry saw from under his arm, Ron give him a pained smile and say quietly, "Sorry, mate.  I just can't sleep.  Thought I might as well do something if I'm up."  

Harry sighed and sat up, stretching again as he fumbled for his glasses. He then slipped out of bed and around to his trunk and, yawning, pulled out several books, a few piles of folded clothes, more books, his Firebolt, his favorite pillow from his bed at Grimmauld Place ("Ah, that's where this was…no wonder I slept so poorly."), and finally, several sheaves of parchment that was his holiday homework assignments.  He held the homework up for Ron to see and said, "Found it."

Ron, though, was goggling at the heaps of stuff pulled out of Harry's trunk.  "Whoa," he breathed.  "Is that an enchanted trunk?"

"Yeah," Harry said, flipping through the parchments to find his Charms essay.  "I enlarged the interior and Hermione found the charm to make it all still look and feel like the same size.  Dead helpful, I was having a real time trying to pack until I used that."  He found the sheaf he was looking for and handed it over to Ron and then set about directing his clothes into his wardrobe cabinet using his wand.

"What the—"Ron scowled at Harry's essay and said, "This isn't what my essay's on!  Harry?"

"Oh," Harry said as he sent his socks flying one after another through the air to land in the drawer of his wardrobe, "I forgot.  Hermione and I saw that some classes gave out different assignments to different people.  She and I had the same Charms, though.  What's yours?"

Ron scrunched up his face as he tried to recall, "Explain renewable enchantments and something-something."  

Harry laughed, "Didn't you finish that one?"

"Yeah, but like I said—I kind of expected to have someone's to compare it to."

"You can use mine if you two shut it or get out so I can sleep!" Seamus grumbled angrily from behind his bed hangings.

Ron grinned and jumped up to take Seamus up on his offer.  "Thanks, mate," he said after he'd found the parchment.

"Yeah, now get out!"

Harry nodded at the grinning Ron and mouthed, "Meet you in the Common Room," as he began to get dressed.  

"Hey, Ron?"  Harry, almost drifting into sleep, heard Neville join Ron at the table he was working at.  "What are you going to do about Potions?"  Harry's eyes opened at this question but he did not move from his spot on the sofa by the fire.  He didn't hear Ron give an answer and imagined Ron had just shrugged in response.

Harry couldn't hold his answer back and he spoke up, "You're going to keep the class and do well, both of you."  He sat up and looked over the back of the sofa at his two dorm mates staring at him.  "That's right, none of us like Snape and Snape likes none of us.  Big deal.  You're in the class and as long as you show up and do the work, you'll stay in it and there's nothing he can say about it."  

Harry stood up and walked over to their table and, bracing his hands on the table, leaned down to look squarely at Ron.  "You want to study to become an Auror.  You were put off because you'd not made his requirement for the class.  Now, you got the break that you needed to get into the class; nothing—_nothing, stands in your way now."_

Harry turned to face Neville.  "What's your career aim?"  Neville floundered for a moment and Harry answered for him, "I believe I heard you mention to Luna yesterday that you thought it would great to be a Healer, no?  I also believe it's pretty clear a Healer needs a NEWT in Potions.  What's there to decide now about the class?"

"But," Neville said, "Harry…it—it's Snape…" as if that explained it all.

"Who cares if it's Snape?" Harry said throwing up his hands.  "He may be a greasy bastard and an arse to boot but –and mind you, McGonagall told me this herself—while he tried to run us into the ground these past five years, he also managed to push us all to do rather well on the standard tests!  Look at you and me Neville—I know I barely passed most years with the git, but I still managed an O on the OWL—as did you."  Harry raised his eyes to each of them as if daring them to brook argument.  Getting none, he went on, "He can be a total arse throughout class and mark us however he likes but it's still the Examination Authority that gives the exams."

"But Defense, too…" Neville said and Ron nodded dolefully.

Harry just waved it off and said, "So?"  He leaned down again close to Neville and looked him in the eye as he said, "That's something you're good at—not necessarily different than Potions, mate.  Look, he believed you weren't any good at Potions so he made you believe it too.  But now you know better and he can't argue with your exam score, can he?  But as for Defense," Harry's eyes were burning now as he relished Neville finally showing up Snape, "he'll probably try to think you're poor at that too, but—you already know better, don't you?"  Harry knew Neville had turned out to be one of the fastest learners in the DA last year and he also knew Neville's skills would be something that Snape would never expect.

"Yeah," Harry looked over to see Ron nodded now and beginning to look excited.  "You know, he won't be expecting a bunch of us to be ahead of the others—we were learning stuff for half of last year.  And you know what else?" Ron asked, positively grinning now, "Almost half our class was in the DA—_but none of the Slytherins_."  Ron's grin was maniacal and Harry recognized it as the twins' evil plotting look.

Neville's face started to brighten and he said slowly, "The Slytherins will all be behind!  He won't be able to give them all the points!"

Harry surveyed Ron and Neville grinning at each other and felt quite satisfied.  He then saw Hermione descending from the girls' staircase and enter the Common Room.

"You're all up early.  What are you working on?" she asked, stifling a yawn.

Harry just nodded his head slowly and said simply, "My work here is done."

"Timetable, Mr. Weasley—I assume you have settled down from last evening?"  McGonagall didn't wait for an answer from Ron as she handed the schedule and moved along down the Gryffindor table.  "Miss Weasley…here you are.  Ah, Ms---Bell?"  McGonagall's voice rose up and she looked at Katie Bell with surprise.  

Harry did a double take as well and looked at Katie.

Katie rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically before saying, "Don't tell me, Professor, even you forgot what year I was in?  I swear, I don't know whether to be offended that so many people seem shocked to see me back here or flattered that you all seem to think I was smart enough to have already graduated."

"I'm sorry, Miss Bell," McGonagall composed herself quickly; "your class is so small, that I've forgot a few students were still here this year.  Yes," she said looking over Katie's timetable, "well here you go." she moved on but called back to Harry, "I guess that means we've one less Chaser to replace, Potter.  Don't forget to book the pitch for tryouts."  

"What does she mean?" Harry heard Ron ask as he remembered having been named captain by McGonagall.

Harry just shook his head as he looked at Katie with is head cocked to the side, "But you always hung around Alicia and Angelina…I—I thought…" he trailed off and Katie tucked away her schedule.

"You thought we were in the same year?  Yeah, yeah, join the clan," Katie grumbled before hoisting her bag over her shoulder and standing up.  "So when are tryouts, Captain—you are captain, aren't you?" she asked Harry.

"Yeah," he said, still trying to adjust to thinking Katie was still around this year.  "Yeah, oh, McGonagall wants—"he peered quickly down both ends of the Gryffindor table to check that neither Andrew Kirke nor Jack Sloper was around.  "She wants a full try out—all positions.  I think she's hoping for a beater pair of Beaters.  I reckon we should get some reserves again, too.  Having Ginny sure helped last year."

"What do you mean 'full try out'?" Ron asked, looking slightly pale.

"Oh, don't worry, mate," Harry said to Ron.  "She just didn't want to make it too obvious to Kirke and Sloper that they stink." He knew Ron most likely feared losing his spot on the team and said, "McGonagall even said you've nothing to worry about after your last game against Ravenclaw."   Harry saw Ginny grinning at him and Hermione beamed at him in congratulations for making Captain.

Harry saw Ron set down a fork full of eggs and, not looking up form his plate, say, "Well it's not up to her, now is it?"

Harry heard the note of tension in Ron's words and looked up at him sharply.  "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

Ron made a slight face and Harry saw Ginny looking nervously between the two. "You're the captain."

Harry gave a confused, if not lopsided, grin at this.  It did feel good to be the captain, he thought.  Slowly he said, "Yeah…and you're my best friend," as he played along in what appeared to be a game of 'Let's State the Facts'.

Unexpectedly, Ron scowled at this and pushed himself away from the table.  Ginny made a move to calm him but Ron flinched and flung her hand away from his arm, as he heatedly shrieked, "Don't touch me there!"

Ron looked agitatedly around and everyone at the table that had now fell silent and he hastily got up and bolted from the Great Hall.

"I'll go after him," Harry said, starting to get up.

"No," Ginny stopped him, "I'll go.  You don't know—I know what this is about."

"What?  The great prat is jealous again, is he?" Hermione said without a note of remorse.

"No," Ginny said patiently and then leaned across to whisper to Harry and Hermione, "I forgot and touched his arm—he probably just went to get salve for it."  She glared off at a couple of Third years that tried to sit down on the other side of Hermione and, after they moved, she explained, "He still has some…_problems with the thoughts…from that brain, remember?"_

"Oh," Hermione said quietly.  

Harry had thought Ron had healed just fine and was surprised and dismayed to hear otherwise.  "You mean—"

"Weasel having problems with using his brain again, is he?" Malfoy cut in from behind Harry and Hermione.

"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry said, not even turning around, but nonetheless, still discreetly drawing his wand.

"What's the matter with you, Potter?" Malfoy went on, "You look so upset you'd think someone killed your dog."

It was with the briefest flick of his wand that Harry cast a silent spell from under the table, back at Malfoy.  It was a jinx that he'd dreamed of using on the Slytherin since he read about it in _Dueling with Wizards Who Play Dirty_.  It was only a flash of a moment later when Harry spun in his seat, reached out and forcefully pulled Malfoy down onto the seat next to him.  Harry had one arm wrapped around him in what look like a friendly gesture but whispered fiercely into his ear, "Unless you fancy the business end of my wand messing up your ferret face, Malfoy, I suggest you stick to attempting conversation with your overgrown apes!"  He made a point of prodding Malfoy in the back with his discreetly held wand for emphasis.

Malfoy seemed to stutter and then with a pained expression on his face and through clenched teeth, said, "You're my type, Potter.  Touch me." 

Harry smirked as he saw Malfoy pale and grow furious.  He pulled his arm away and leaned away from him, saying, "Sorry, Malfoy, I think I'll pass."

Malfoy lunged away from Harry, stumbling until one of his thugs caught him and then he straightened up, ran a hand over his slicked-back hair and glared pure venom at Harry and spat, "I _love you, Potter--- Arrgh!"  He clamped a hand over his mouth and then stalked off in a rage._

The Gryffindor table and several others who'd witness the event from the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables burst into laughter as Malfoy almost ran from the Great Hall.  

"What was that?" Hermione asked quickly and not without some shock.

Harry couldn't help his lips from forming a smug smile as he answered back simply, "A little something to teach him manners."  He could see Hermione was not satisfied with this and he had no intention of telling anyone else what he'd done so he said, "Shall we go to class?" and shouldered his book bag and stood up.

Once out in the hallway, Hermione dragged Harry, with Ginny following, into an alcove and asked again, "Now what was _that all about?"_

"Jinxed him," Harry said simply leaning back and crossing his arms.  

Ginny grinned appreciatively, "Nice one."

Hermione scowled, "With _what?"_

Harry uncrossed his arms and took a step towards Hermione, his face very serious.  "You do know what he said, don't you?"

"Of course I know," she said quickly.  "But what jinx was that?  I've not ever seen it and you didn't learn it while I was around."

"Was it a Lusting Jinx?" Ginny asked.  "Fred and George were always trying to find one like that."

Harry shook his head, "No, it's a Contrary Jinx.  He says the opposite of what he means to say.  That is, of course, only _if he can't manage to keep his gob shut."_

"Brilliant," Ginny whistled.  "What's the incantation?"

"_Contrarius_," Harry said, looking pleased with himself.

Hermione still didn't look happy and she said, "I wish you wouldn't have done that to him."

"And why not?" Ginny demanded, scandalized at the thought.

Hermione gave her a look of exasperation and said to Harry, "It's just another reason for him to have it in for you.  You should just ignore him."

"Hermione I'm not about to let him waltz around and…" Harry was getting angry now and he took a breath to calm down.  "You heard what he said—about Sirius!"  Harry shook his head, "No, he doesn't get to come in and flaunt the fact that his aunt killed my godfather—not here and not if I have anything to say about it.  I could have baited him about his father off to rot in some cell someplace, hopefully suffering from a simultaneous bout of Cholera and Dragon Pox, but no—I gave him a simple lesson to shut the bloody hell up!"

"I agree, "Ginny said, "Malfoy just can't strut around like he had before.  Every soul here knows what his father is now.  It's about time he be taken down a notch."  The bell rang, signally five minutes until class and Ginny said, "Oh no, I still haven't gotten to Ron!  Oh well, he can take care of it.  I got to run, later!"

As Hermione, still looking displeased, turned back to Harry, he gave her a cheeky wink and she couldn't help smiling back as she said, "C'mon then."

After a short detour into another rather obscure alcove on the way to Charms where they each hurriedly admitted they'd had a terrible night of sleeping alone and wished for more time, they arrived just before the start of class.  The class was rather packed and Harry immediately noticed the room had expanded to meet the increased class size.  He reckoned over three-quarters of his year was in the room, almost all of which were animatedly retelling the scene where Draco Malfoy had professed his love to Harry Potter and subsequently been shot down.  

Harry also noticed, with a quick glance about the room, that neither Malfoy nor his cronies Crabbe and Goyle were anywhere to be seen.  He spotted Ron across the room, surrounded by Hannah Abbot, Susan Bones and Anthony Goldstein who were deep in conversation.  All other seats around Ron were filled in with other Hufflepuffs, as well as Dean and Seamus.

Flitwick cleared his throat; "Settle down now class, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter how about taking one of these vacant seats in the front.  No need to be shy now, let's have some of you move up closer—Mr. Zabini?  Up here please, and you too, Mr. Longbottom."  

Hermione lead up to the second row and sat beside Mandy Brocklehurst while Harry allowed Neville to slide in first and sit beside him, behind Hermione and Mandy.  

  Flitwick was looking up and down a scroll of parchment and frowned as he looked up and said, "I believe we are just waiting for Mr. Malfoy and--."

There were several loud titters and Seamus said from the back of the class, "I think he's feeling a bit rejected this morning, Professor."  More laughter followed this pronouncement and Harry made an effort to focus on only getting his books out and on his desk.  Mandy Brocklehurst turned around in her seat and grinned slyly at Harry as she asked, "Is it true he _fancies you?"_

The titters died away and even Flitwick looked up sharply with a jump as Mandy was heard and Harry stared at her.  _Oh god, of all the rumors…_  

"It looked like you were trying to let him down easy, Harry," Ernie said from behind, leaning forward eagerly.  "Don't know why though, if he were that close to me I would've hexed him just because."

He saw Hermione's shoulders shaking in silent laughter beside her and he couldn't hold back his own grin as he started laughing, too.  Harry was shaking his head back and forth and not managing any words through his laughing fit that several others were now joining.  

Then the door to the classroom opened and Malfoy walked in brandishing a note, "Sir, we have a note from Professor Snape as…"  He stopped abruptly as he noticed how full the class was and that the room had suddenly, fell silent.  

"Yes, your—your note, Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Crabbe?" Flitwick took the proffered pass and waved to some empty seats beside Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson.  "Have a seat boys and let's move on now shall we?"

There were several exchanged smiles and snickers as Flick passed around the course syllabus and began explaining that they would begin studying Enchantments.

After class, Ron hurried over to Harry and asked, "Is it true?  Malfoy said he's in love with you?"

Harry made an awful face, "_Urgh! Ron!  Please never string those words together again!"  They hurried out of class and Harry saw several others waiting to hear what had really happened.  He wasn't exactly keen on admitting outright he'd jinxed a fellow student in the Great Hall in front of all of them as well as some of the staff._

He was spared, however, when McGonagall stepped out of her classroom, dispersing the small gathering, and said, "Potter—there you are.  I forgot to tell you, see Professor Dumbledore when you have a break to pick up your lesson plans."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said, grateful for the distraction.  

"I'm off to Ancient Runes," Hermione said, smiling and waving at Ron and Harry as she left.

"So?  What happened?" Ron asked, finally alone with Harry.  

By the time Harry had told him how he'd jinxed Malfoy and what he'd said, Ron was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes and had to lean upon a statue of William the Walrus to keep upright.  

"And nobody knows you jinxed him?" Ron gasped out, still in stitches.

"Nope, except Hermione and Ginny," Harry said.

"Oh, blimey, Harry—this is just too good."  Ron straightened up and finally got a hold of his laughter as they reached the landing beneath Trelawney's trapdoor.   

Harry grinned back at Ron, happy to see he was in a good mood and he said, "You know what else is just too good?  I don't have Divination any more!"  He waved happily as he back away as Ron's face fell. "Have fun in there!  Die a few times for me, will ya?"

Still chuckling and very thankful he wasn't in the stifling tower classroom with Ron; Harry made his way back down several flights of stairs.  He headed towards Dumbledore's office as he had the rest of the morning free until Defense in the afternoon.

Pausing at the gargoyle, he tried to guess the password several times, even resorting to some of Fred and George's concoctions.  Stumped, he kicked the gargoyle and slumped against the wall.  "Why didn't anyone tell me the password?" he muttered to no one.

"Perhaps you never asked," answered a deep, resonant voice.  

Harry looked up and down the hall around the gargoyle but saw no one.  He pulled his wand and asked, "Who's there?"

"I'm right here if you bother to look."

Harry turned around completely in a circle and still saw no one.  

"Here—the portrait, boy," the voice said as if it thought Harry was a bit dim.

Harry looked up to see a portrait of a wizard; he was studying Harry with a critical eye and said, "You are the one of which they speak so highly?"

"Um, er, yeah, so can you tell me the password?" Harry asked, not wanting to even think about how much gossip a portrait this close to Dumbledore's office would hear.

"I can," the wizard said, shifting contentedly in his wingback chair.  Harry could see the setting of the portrait had the man in some sort of laboratory.  "Are you asking?"  

"Well, yes," Harry said.  "Who are you? I've never noticed you here before."

"That's precisely because I've never been here before."  The wizard spoke in a slow pedantic meter that made Harry want to hex him.  "As to who I am…I am Auroleus Phillipus Theophrastus Bombast—"

"Ok, never mind," Harry cut in, "can you just please tell me the password?"

The wizard raised an eye and settled back into his chair as he said, "Coconut Ice."

"Thank you," Harry said and he turned back to the gargoyle.  "Coconut Ice," he said and it sprang out of the way, revealing the spiral staircase, upon which Harry jumped on to ride up to the office.

He reached the landing and saw the door open just a crack and he also heard a voice—a very recognizable voice.

"I had to perform the counter-curse myself-- I'm _positive Potter cursed him!"_

"Severus, I do not think—"

"No, you never think he does anything wrong, do you!  You're _always saying—"_

"Severus!  I was _saying_ that I believe this conversation is over.  I understand your concern and I can assure I will speak with Harry very shortly."

"You—you will?"  Snape sounded to be in disbelief.  "Very well then, shall I get him and bring him here for you now, sir?"

"I don't believe that will be necessary, Severus.  I believe Harry is about to join us, just now."

Harry took his cue and pushed open the great oak door and said innocently, "You wished to see me, sir?"

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said as he was seated in his great chair behind his desk.  "Come right in.  I see Theo provided you with the password then?"

"Theo—oh, yes."

"Potter!" Snape began, looking a hunter who'd spotted his prey as he pointed a long sallow finger at Harry, "What _possessed you to curse one of my students?"_

Harry saw Snape's glittering black eyes boring his own and he slammed up a mental wall against any intrusions from him.  Harry countered, "I haven't cursed anyone."  He let the image of Malfoy saying 'I love you, Potter' play forth in his mind, hoping to annoy Snape if he could glean that.

Snape sneered, "I know very well you cursed him!  I had to—"

"It wasn't a curse, it was a jinx," Harry said loftily, figuring there was no real way out of this and that he ought to take his pleasure from merely correctly Snape when he could.

"A—a jinx."  Snape looked taken aback at not having Harry continue to deny the incident.  He went on in a deathly whisper, "And what, pray tell, Potter, is the rule about using magic in the corridors?"

"There is to be no magic in the corridors," Harry recited as he'd heard it only a thousand times.

"Aha!" Snape said, waggling his finger and looking triumphant.

"However," Harry said in a bored tone, "I jinxed him in the Great Hall."  He gave a short honeyed smile to Snape and then returned to face Professor Dumbledore, devoid of any discernible expression.  

"Well," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands together and standing up, "there is no rule against that!"

"But—sir—he…" Snape looked like the golden snitch had eluded him again.  

"I've got your lesson plans here, Harry," Dumbledore said bringing forth a leather book from a bookshelf.  Snape turned to glare at the headmaster and, seeing he was not going to get Harry into trouble today, stalked off and out the door.

After Snape left, Dumbledore turned from the slammed door to peer over his glasses at Harry.  "I do hope you had a reason to jinx Mr. Malfoy this morning?"

Harry fought a laugh and the urge to ask, who would need one?  He recalled the comment Malfoy had made that clearly was meant to taunt him about Sirius' death.  "It was, sir, in response to a very…taunting remark.  I was, perhaps, a bit impulsive."

Dumbledore nodded and seated himself again, "I see.  Please be seated.  

"Do you recall, Harry, during your induction speech how you pointed out that the very halls and students of Hogwarts are a front for this war?"  Harry nodded slowly.  "I believe we need to begin an offensive effort to fortify this front, this school; to bring down barriers and to build bridges."  He let his words sink in to Harry.  

"Conflicts and wars, Harry, I have noted, many are fought with one side wishing to just be and the other side, seeking to oppress some or all of those, wishing to just be.  Lord Voldemort, we know, seeks power for his own gain and glory for the sake of glory.  However, his servants and supporters wage war for purity of blood—or so they claim.  They seek to oppress a group of those who just wish to be.  I believe, Harry, that as the side that just wishes to be, we need to be aware that _just being is a very appealing thing, even to those who may believe in purity of blood.  Do you understand what it is that I say?"_

"Er, well…no," Harry frowned, he'd been lost on the 'just be' part.

A small smile preceded Dumbledore's summary, "Let's try not to alienate those who may still choose to not take up fight against us."

Harry's mouth flew open and he said, "How much more declared must—"his mouth snapped shut and he fidgeted in his chair across from Dumbledore's desk.  "How could Draco Malfoy _not_ be more openly against us?"

"I believe he has not been Marked."

"Yet."

Dumbledore nodded.  "It is a possibility, I'll admit.  But the choice is still his to make.  I'll let you think on this, Harry."  After a few moments of silence where Harry had far too many impulsive and impudent thoughts cross his mind, fighting for birth upon his lips, Dumbledore said, "I am expecting a visitor shortly and we can pick this up tomorrow in our private study time.

"Here are the lesson plans I have prepared for your use," he said handing over the leather book.  "Go over them today and let me know any questions you may have tomorrow.  We meet before you are to teach your first class, I believe."

A knock on the door sounded and Dumbledore called out, "Come in, Depin."

"Albus!" A very tiny, hunched over wizard, with flowing gossamer robes that appeared to have bright smudges of color all over them entered carrying a large wooden box.  "I wondered when I'd be seeing you," the little wizard said as he peered intently at Dumbledore.

"Yes, Harry, this is Depin Elegans.  Depin, this is—"

"Harry Potter," the wizard breathed out as he turned his thorough stare on Harry.  He was looking Harry up and down and searching his face, not necessarily staring at the scar, but roving, as if to memorize it.  "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Potter," he said, extending a hand that Harry shook firmly.

"I, I must be off then," Harry said, holding up the leather book.  He nodded at the tiny wizard and said, "Thank you, Professor," as he left the office and rode the spiral staircase to the landing.

Harry set off with his mind pondering Dumbledore's latest conversation and flipping through the book of lesson plans.  He had the whole morning to ponder and headed back to the Common Room.

After lunch, where Ron was quite enthused that Trelawney seemed a lot less focused on predicting the death of her students (Harry suspected that was due in large part to his absence) and much more grateful to be back to teaching in her stuffy tower.  

"Hey," Harry asked flipping through the book of lesson plans Dumbledore had given him, "I wanted to schedule tryouts, is this Saturday good for you?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders, shoveling in food, "D'you ask Ginny?"

"Oh, that's right, she wanted to try for Chaser," Harry said recalling a conversation with her last year.  Harry got up and moved down the table to where Ginny was eating next to Colin Creevey and his brother.  

"Hey, Gin, will Saturday work for me to schedule team tryouts?"  

"Hey, Harry!  I heard you're captain, I knew you would!" Colin gushed, making Ginny cringe slightly away from him.  Harry just nodded and turned back to Ginny.  "Guess what, Harry?" Colin went on, "I'm going to ask Professor McGonagall about being the announcer for quidditch games after my Transfiguration lesson this afternoon, wouldn't that be brilliant if I were the announcer?"

Harry felt a new dread build in his chest as he envisioned Colin Creevy with a microphone on the quidditch pitch.  The thought was almost worse than Colin with his camera.

"Sure, Harry," Ginny said, ending his thoughts of looking up a lock-jaw curse for Colin, "Saturday should be perfect.  Oh, I talked to Ron, he's not really jealous."  She was whispering now and leaning in close to speak to Harry, "He knows you've got a ton more seniority on the team, even if you were kicked off last year.  It's just he's followed the sport since he could crawl and you know, you only learned about when you came here."  She scrunched up her nose in thought and said, "Maybe if you asked him to help manage the team."

"Well, of course," Harry said as if this were already obvious, "how else did he think I had planned to manage it?  He's spent more hours in History of Magic going over quidditch playbooks than he ever did taking note!  Mind you, I think we ought to limit the number of Cannons plays, seeing as how they haven't won since Ballycastle had to forfeit that game six years ago."

Ginny giggled and nodded.  "Good, then let him know you want him involved and he'll be chuffed for tryouts.  Oh, we've got to shove off for class," she said looking at her watch and then back up with a face of resignation, "Defense Against the Dark Arts," she sighed heavily, "with Snape."

Harry gave a sympathetic half smile to her and Colin who grimaced at hearing this, "We must have Defense right after you today, try and keep him in a good mood, eh?"

Ginny rolled her eyes as she gathered her stuff and prepared to leave and Colin was staring at Harry with his mouth agape.

 "_Snape has good moods?" he asked with incredulousness that would lead one to believe it was more likely that house-elves might go on strike and demand paying._

Harry and Ron left the Great Hall after lunch and neither had seen Hermione since Charms.  

"Say Ron, I was wondering if you could dust off that play book of yours and think about some that we might be able to use.  You can help watch tryouts and see who'd fit in the best to run them, what do you think?"  Harry said casually.

"Really?" Ron asked, trying to hide his excitement.  "I mean, yeah I got it.  You want to use it?"

"Nah, you know them all better than me—hours of History of Magic well spent, I'd say—so you look them over.  You know, Wood always said being the Keeper was the best spot from which to run the plays.  Speaking of which, I should go book the pitch then, come on, we can go now."

Ron was altogether skipping on their way across the grounds to see Madame Hooch.  He told Harry about how he and Ginny had dragged Bill out to the pitch behind the Burrow during the summer to practice.  

"I managed a pretty good Starfish and Stick a time or two.  Ginny did get a few shots past me, but I might say that just goes toward her Chaser skills, eh?"

They arrived at the Quidditch Office and found Madame Hooch leaning back in her chair with her feet on her desk as she sang along to the blaring Wizarding Wireless with her eyes closed.  

Harry and Ron exchanged equally raised-brow looks before they both cleared their throats.  Madame Hooch's eyes sprang open and she knocked a stack of newspapers and magazines onto the floor (Harry thought one looked suspiciously like Witch Weekly) as she stood up from her chair. 

"Yes—yes.  What can I do for you?" she asked as she waved the wireless off with her wand.

"Er, I wanted to book the pitch for Gryffindor tryouts, ma'am," Harry said.

"Right, right, Potter.  Minerva said you'd be coming down."  Hooch flipped over a blackboard that had flying instructions written on it to reveal the other side had a schedule for the pitch upon it.  "What did you have in mind?  I might warn you, Professor Snape has already booked the pitch for Slytherin's tryouts as well as for their practices. 

Here's the schedule for the year," she said handing Harry the match schedule.

"First game's against Ravenclaw," Ron said.

"Yeah," Harry mused as he ran his finger down the parchment.  "And the last game of the season is Slytherin."

"Blimey, Harry, look at this!" Ron was pointing to the pitch schedule now.  "Slytherin's already booked all the weekday afternoon spots!  Can they do that?  _And—they've got one on Saturday!"_

Harry looked at the schedule and saw that Slytherin had indeed, already claimed what appeared to be the most prime practice spots.  "Well, lucky we beat Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw here, then.  How do we book it?" he asked Hooch.

"As captain, just tap your wand to the open time slot," she instructed.

Harry went to the board and tapped his wand to ten o'clock on Saturday morning.  An hour-long block appeared that read "_Gryffindor_".  

"We need longer," Ron said with his arms crossed, surveying the board.

Harry tapped it again at eleven o'clock.

"More," Ron said.  Harry gave him a look and Ron said, "It lasted nearly three hours last year."

Harry tapped his wand to begin earlier at nine o'clock.  There was a three-hour time block for Gryffindor.  "Is that enough?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded and said, "Book some of these dinnertime slots here.  We can't schedule any during the day until we know who's on the team and what their schedules are like."

Harry nodded and selected Tuesday's and Thursday's from five to seven o'clock.  

"Maybe we should book one each day of the week," Ron suggested, looking determined.

Harry turned to him and said, "What? Why?  Even Wood didn't have us out there every night unless it was just before a game!"

"But Slytherin is," Ron said darkly.

Harry scrunched up his face as he looked at the board again.  "Bet they don't use all those slots, though.  Nah, we ought to leave some times for the other teams."

"The enemy?  Harry!" Ron looked scandalized.

"I'm quite sure," Hooch said, "that Mr. Smith and Miss Chang will appreciate your leaving them ample practice time."

Harry and Ron shot each other a quick look before Harry stepped forward and quickly blocked off the same time slot for the other days of the week.

"That ought to do it," Ron said, satisfied.  Harry nodded and admired the board.  Harry then pulled out a spare piece of parchment and, with one finger touched to the board, pointed his wand at the parchment and muttered, "_Transcribius_."  The schedule was copied onto the parchment and Ron looked on in admiration.

"Nice one, where'd you get that from?" Ron said as he imagined all the uses of that spell, including making copies of Hermione's coveted notes.

Harry folded the parchment and stuffed it in his pocket.  "From the lesson plan book Dumbledore gave me.  It's for transcribing stuff to and from a blackboard.  Nifty, huh?"

Harry and Ron returned to the castle, waving across the grounds to Hagrid with a Care of Magical Creatures class, and were just on time to head to their first Defense class.

As the bell rang and the fifth year Gryffindors poured out of the classroom, Harry saw Ginny give him a dour look that didn't bode well for Snape's mood.  

"Hey," said Hermione as she came up behind Harry and Ron.

"Where've you been?" Ron asked and Harry looked on, curious for the answer, as well.

"Me? Oh, I had Ancient Runes before," she said, looking harried.

Ron's eyes narrowed and he said, "That was over before lunch.   You missed lunch."

"Did I?" Hermione asked and Harry sensed a classic Ron and Hermione row coming on just by hearing the rising tone of her voice and seeing his narrowed eyes.

"We were down at lunch the whole time and never saw you there," Ron said.  

"Maybe I ate lunch somewhere else and with someone else then Ron," Hermione said archly.

"Oh, having meals with House-elves then, are you?  Trying to persuade them to rise up and revolt, eh?"

"Believe whatever you want, Ron," Hermione said as she turned to Harry.  "Coming to class, Harry?"

Harry shrugged at Ron, and followed Hermione into the classroom.  He truly hated how Ron and Hermione bickered; it physically made his head ache, however, he was now wondering just where Hermione had been during lunch and whom with.

Snape was not in the room yet and this classroom had also enlarged to accommodate the increased class size due to all four houses being together.

"Looks like nearly every single person signed up for this class," Harry said.

"Must be their desire to see Snape," Ron said sarcastically as he seated himself on one side of Harry.

"No, it's because Dumbledore dropped the OWL requirement for this course.  He left it open for anyone who wanted instruction on defense to be able to take the class," Hermione said knowingly.

Harry thought this sounded like something Dumbledore would do but commented, "Sure, but imagine how slow we'll go if there are people in here who failed their OWL?  I mean I know of at least a dozen of us who all received Outstanding."  

A girl in front of them, who Harry couldn't name, shot him a glare at overhearing this. But she did a double take as her eye caught on his scar.  She seemed to not glare anymore as she realized who'd said it and Harry looked down at his desktop.

"Nice one," Hermione whispered to him, much quieter now.  "We're supposed to be trying to unify the houses and students, not alienate those who need help the most."

This reminded Harry of what Dumbledore had sent him to ponder and he nudged Ron and said, "That reminds me, I need to talk to you two tonight about something."  He looked pointedly at Hermione, as he said, "So don't go wandering off for dinner and then the rest of the night."

Ron smirked at his instructions to Hermione to not disappear and Hermione gave him a long unreadable look and was about to say something when the door from the Defense office slammed open.   Snape strode in; dropping what Harry recognized as one of Dumbledore's lesson plan books, onto the desk and whirled to face the class.

"This is Defense Against the Dark Arts for Sixth Years who believe they are willing and able to earn a NEWT level accreditation for this subject.  Many of you are here not because you are willing nor because you are able to perform at this level, however, you've been cursed with an abominable succession of inept instructors for this class."

Irritation and indignation swelled in Harry as well as Ron and Hermione at having Lupin lumped into that group of inept instructors.  Snape continued on as he menacingly stalked down through the rows of students.  Harry had a fleeting thought that led him to believe Snape liked having the larger audience for his intimidation performance.

He went on softly, "Several of you, indeed, barely managed to scrape a passing OWL for this subject, yet our headmaster wishes you all to suffer the rest of us with your presence."  Snape swept down the row in front of the trio.  "Potter!"  He leaned down with both hands on Harry's desk, his face inches from Harry's cool expression.   "Tell me…where might I find…a bezoar?"

Harry heard a few lone snickers at the question, one, distinctly sounding like Malfoy.  The fact that this question had been one with which Snape had tried to baffle and ridicule Harry on his very first day of Potions was not lost on Harry.  But he wasn't the same clueless First Year and he surely wasn't scared of Snape anymore.

"I believe, _Professor_," Harry put emphasis the title he though not befitting Snape, "you might find one in a glass display case attached to a rather high price tag," His answer dared Snape to blow up.  Instead, Snape just arched an eyebrow.  Harry leaned forward just slightly, causing Snape to lean back to maintain his personal space, and went on in a casual voice, "Unless of course, you wished to procure one directly.  In which case, you'd find it in the stomach of a goat."  _Take that you greasy bastard._

Snape stood up and crossed his arms, looking bitterly down at Harry and said, "And tell me how, Mr. Potter, our resident expert on…_Defense_…Against the…_Dark Arts, just how does that knowledge tie in to this class?"  _

Harry swallowed discreetly but refused to break eye contact with Snape's gleaming black eyes. Bezoars cure poisoning, how the hell am I supposed to know…  Harry could feel Hermione, just itching to slip him an answer, fidget beside him.  He also felt Ron shrink on his other side, just hoping to get by without notice.

"Well, sir," Harry began, "I believe a bezoar is an antidote for poisoning…and I think poisons could be justifiably classified as Dark Arts."  That sounded like a fine link, Harry thought and he could tell by Hermione's prideful posture that she also thought it was sufficient. 

But what really told Harry that he'd answered the question correctly, much to Snape's displeasure, was when Snape just sneered said, "And it only took you six years to learn that."

Snape moved and tried his hand and cowing some other students, who Harry assumed, were also some of Snape's favorite targets.  He noted a number of them were Hufflepuffs and Snape seemed to have a general disdain for their entire house, much as he did for Gryffindor.  Ravenclaw, it appeared, to hold Snape's begrudging tolerance.

"So," Snape said coldly as he resumed his position at the head of the class, "it is now time to identify the hopeless and hapless among you so I might then be able to assemble you into groups according to skill level.  This will ensure an efficient use of everyone's time.

"You might think I could merely reference the OWL marks you've all managed, however, there seem to be some rather _suspect marks among them…Longbottom!" Snape drew his wand from within his robes and pointed it at Neville.  "Up here," he commanded, gesturing with his wand to the front of the class._

Neville gulped and Harry tried to silently will his strength and courage to him.  As Neville stood up shakily from his seat, he glanced sideways and caught Harry's eye.  Harry gave him a discreet smile and thumbs-up as Snape barked, "Now!"  Neville did seem a bit heartened as he walked forward to the front of the class.

"Now," Snape said, eyeing Neville with disdain and leveling his wand towards him, "according to your OWL examination marks, you should be able to demonstrate the proper _defense_ against what I am about to do…although, I'm already beginning to doubt your abilities seeing as how you haven't yet managed to…" Snape started backing up from Neville and pulling back his arm to cast a spell and spoke each word slowly as he said, "…draw…your…wand!"

Neville managed to draw his wand quickly as he saw Snape winding up to cast and there was a flash of light as Snape cast a Jelly-Legs Jinx.  However, a second flash of light from Neville as he cried, "_Protego!"_ sent the jinx ricocheting off the shield.  

Snape sidestepped his jinx as it careened back at him and let it dissipate as it hit the wall.  He turned a cool eye back to Neville who was looking like the most stunned person in the entire classroom (and that was saying something).  

"Well," Snape said, clearly not having expected this at all, "clearly, your _Gryffindor_ response may be effective, however…I was hoping for the simpler and always effective and less exploitable defense of _dodging_ the spell.  Take your seat."  

Harry and every other Gryffindor in the room beamed with pride at Neville after what Snape had meant to be an insult, only made them puff out their chests and sit tall in their seats.  

Snape seemed to have lost his balance for the next few minutes, as if he thought his world had suddenly tilted on its axis, leaving everything to be just slightly not what was expected.  He instructed the class to stand up, banished the desks tot he side of the room, and instructed everyone to form three lines so he might observe their skill levels as they performed several standard spells.  He refrained from picking on any more Gryffindors and settled for the safer Hufflepuffs and a few Ravenclaws to sound out for poor form and lacking skills. 

Harry watched with pride, as the members of last year's DA were clearly superior to the rest of his classmates.  He also noticed that several Slytherins, were in fact, having difficulty with many basic defensive spells and counter-jinxes, including the girl standing in line next to him; the one who'd given him a dirty look before the start of class when he'd inadvertently insulted her.  Harry recalled her as being one of the Slytherin girls who never seemed to have a name or voice in all the time he'd been at Hogwarts.  

"You're…you're doing it wrong," Harry said as he paused in casting a counter spell and watched her fail to produce any kind of spell.  He saw her face grow astonishingly red as she just shook her wand and tried her again, with no luck.

"Here, like this, watch," Harry said as he showed her how he performed the spell.  "Go on, give it a go now—"

"Potter," said Snape viciously from behind, "showing off already on your first day back?"  Harry gaped at him.  He'd been trying to help one of Snape's little Slytherins, after all.  "I don't believe Miss Davis is in need of your blatant bragging.  Five points from Gryffindor and another ten if I catch you trying to use this class as your own showground for displaying yourself again."

Snape swept away and Harry clenched his jaw as he indulged himself by imagining hexing Snape so his overlarge, hooked nose fell off his face.  Then, to his side, he saw the girl perform the spell with admirable results this time.  He looked at her sideways and she grinned back at him and mouthed, "Thanks."

The bell rang, signally the end of class and although it had been a vast improvement over last years Defense classes that never once employed the use of wands, Harry still felt like the class had been a bit of a dud.  Sure there was the usual Snape sneering and unfair taking of House points, but as Harry and his fellow Gryffindors were quite adept in this subject (especially compared to Potions), the class had been dreadfully dull.

"That was exciting," Ron said sarcastically as they left the room.

"Well, hopefully, it will get better and we can get to some useful subject matter," said Hermione.  "You know, Snape might actually not be half bad at teaching this."  Ron and Harry goggled at her and she explained, "Oh, I never said he'd been fun or even fair, but we're not intimidated at all and you have to admit, if anyone ought to know about the Dark Arts, it's Snape."

Harry conceded begrudgingly and nodded once as Ron asked, "Yeah, you know, why do you think Dumbledore gave him the job finally?  Especially now?"

Harry looked up sharply at Ron and realized there really was an awful lot that he and Hermione knew, that Ron had no clue about.  Harry did some quick thinking and said, "Actually, you'd never guess.  Are you done for the day?"  Ron nodded.  

Harry looked to Hermione who was watching him carefully and he asked her, "You done, too?"  She nodded slowly, wary of what Harry had in mind.  "Good, let's go someplace where we can talk."

"Common Room?" Ron suggested.

"No," Harry said, pulling the other two away from the rest of their classmates.  "Someplace private."

With unvoiced consent, they headed into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.  Myrtle, thankfully, was nowhere to be seen. 

Harry conjured a privacy bubble around them and settled himself comfortably (as much as one could be in a bathroom) on the floor.  

Ron looked around curiously at the bubble encasing them and asked, "What's this all about?  Did you guys overhear something about how Snape got the job?"

Hermione was giving Harry a look of warning, but he waved her concern aside, not seeing what harm could come of letting Ron what they knew (Just as long as he didn't know the truth of _how_ they knew.)  "Yeah, you cold say that," Harry said.

"Harry," Hermione said warningly, "you know we're not supposed to tell anyone about this."

Harry felt a twinge of annoyance at Hermione's affinity for rules.  He was not about to tell Ron anything that he wouldn't be speculating about anyway, what with all Ron knew about Snape's role as a spy.  Not to mention the fact that Hermione saying they weren't supposed to say anything, really didn't give Harry much choice but to go on, unless he really wanted an irate Weasley on his hands.  "Hermione, with all the things that Ron knows about Snape in the Order, he might as well know why and how he got the job--we'd be going spare if we didn't know."  _Not to mention the fact that this is about the least imperative secret we are keeping from Ron at this time_.  

Hermione didn't look happy about this but settled back with her arms crossed and Ron shot her a triumphantly defiant glare and then turned back to Harry and said, "C'mon then, tell me!"

Harry explained that Snape came back from Voldemort (Ron still flinched at the name) with instructions to procure the position of professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts and to tell Dumbledore that the reason for this is to enable Snape to observe Harry and report back to Voldemort.  Harry explained that Dumbledore reckoned it would be okay to play along with this, as he'd already written out all the lesson plans for the course and would allow Snape no deviation from these plans.  

"Whoa," Ron said as a smile grew on his face, "you mean to tell me that the greasy git finally lands his dream job, only to not be able to teach it the way he wants?  Bet he's just _raving_ about that!  I _knew_ there was a reason he just didn't up and hex us all today in class!"  Harry smiled at this.  

"It means," Hermione said imperiously, "that we need to be careful what we all show off that we can do.  He's watching not just Harry, but anyone close to Harry.  Look at how he managed to get Neville up there and demonstrate knowledge and proficiency at a sixth year spell!"

"What?" Ron said, shaking his head in disagreement, "How do you rate Neville as 'close to Harry'?"

"Because," Hermione explained quickly, "Neville went with Harry to the Ministry last year.  As did you and me."

"You mean…you mean, he's watching us, too?" Ron asked, not sure if would nor wanted to believe it.  He paled slightly as he said, "But then, that means…then he's watching Ginny--and Luna, too!  Oh no, we're not just going to pretend and act thick are we?"  Harry had to school his face to not smirk at this, "I mean, blimey!  We've finally got a class were we know what we're doing and can shove it under Snape's greasy nose and now we're supposed to just hide the fact that we're not complete dunderheads?  No way!"

"You know," Harry said, "I'm not so sure you're right about this, Hermione."   Both Ron and Hermione looked dubiously at Harry.  "Really--see, Voldemort's just not going to tell anyone, even Snape, his plans.  Not now and whatever story he's told Snape is just a front for what he's really got in mind."  This was old news to Harry and he thought Hermione should know this as well.  Seeing as how he still had no clue what those other plans could be, he thought letting Ron in on the mystery couldn't hurt.

"Yeah…yeah, you're right, Harry," Ron said, leaning forward now, obviously thinking hard.  "He's just trying to draw attention away from whatever he's really doing--like sending someone here from Durmstrang!"

"Ron!" Hermione started in on him with a finger pointed close to his face.

"Stop!" Harry said, placing his arm between Hermione and Ron and gently pushing Hermione back and away from Ron.  "I don't know about that, Ron.  Actually, there has to be a _reason_ to have Snape teaching Defense.  If he just wanted to plant…_someone _here, then he could have sent them to apply for the vacant Defense position."

"So what do you think it is, then?" Ron countered, waiting for an answer that would just try to make him not think ill of Viktor Krum.

"I dunno," Harry said.  "That's what we need to find out."

Ron seemed to think on this and Hermione was staring down at her skirt.  Harry was hoping he hadn't hacked her off now and was about to try and say something when Ron said, "Is this why you thought Snape wouldn't be teaching Potions? Because you knew this?"  Harry and Hermione nodded.  "But who made you promise not to tell anyone?" Ron asked Hermione.

"Dumbledore," she said.

"Remus," Harry said just at the same time as Hermione.

They exchanged a look and Hermione quickly explained, "We overheard Remus and Professor Dumbledore talking about it and they made us both promise to keep it a secret."  She snuck a glance back at Harry and said, "But I guess Harry's right, you're probably not included in those who can't know."

Ron seemed satisfied and asked Harry, "So, are you going to tell Ginny?"

"What?" Harry said, caught off guard and thinking this was a strange question.

"Ginny," Ron explained, "She's got class with Snape and may be able to tell us if anything funny happens in her classes.  She should know, too."

"Oh, right," Harry said.  "Good thinking."

"But, I still think," Hermione said, "well, I still think that perhaps we shouldn't show off too much."

Ron goggled at her and said, "This--from little miss know-it-all!  Tell me, _why_--in the name of Merlin--should we _not_ show what we can do?"

"Because," Hermione said, trying to look strong, but Harry thought, failing miserably and looking quite obviously hurt, "I think one ought not to tip their hand."

Ron muttered something incoherent and whatever it was, Harry couldn't imagine it wasn't meant to be hurtful to Hermione so he changed the subject.  

"There's something else I need to talk to you two about," he said.  

"Yeah?" Ron turned to him, looking put out.  "I hope this is about why you were _voluntarily_ helping a Slytherin in class today."

"Actually, it is," Harry said coolly.  This was true, although he hadn't thought about it when he'd tried to help that girl with her spell.  Really, he'd just been more wary of her putting someone's (mainly his) eye out with her dreadful wand waving.

Harry explained what happened when he'd gone up to get his lesson plans from Dumbledore in his office, only to find Snape complaining about his having jinxed Malfoy.  He explained how Dumbledore had not seemed too pleased with his actions and how he's been asked to think on curbing House divisions.  He also explained how Dumbledore seemed to be of the opinion that Malfoy should not yet be condemned as an enemy.

Ron looked appalled at the thought that Malfoy wasn't condemnable just for being a Malfoy and shrieked, "He can't mean he thinks the ferret-face is actually _salvageable_, can he?  _He's barking_!"  Ron ripped of a loose thread on his robe and looked disgusted.

"Ron," Hermione said, "_everyone_ is salvageable.  This is about mobilizing upon the advice of the Sorting Hat and its warnings that if we are divided, we'll crumble from within."  She looked at Harry and said, "See, I told you jinxing Malfoy was not a good idea."

Ron snorted and looked at her with awe as if he'd truly never seen anything like her ever before.  "Hermione, for your information, jinxing, hexing or cursing a Malfoy is _always_ a good thing."

Hermione shot him a glare and hastily stood up, barely brushing off her robe and said, "Fine then Ronald Weasley, if pigheaded is how you want to be, then I'll leave you to it."  She tried to walk away but bumped her nose into Harry's privacy bubble. "Harry!" she whirled, "Let me out!"

Harry stood up quickly and faced her, as he said, "No."

"Harry!" Hermione said, looking almost near tears and stomping her foot.

_Please don't cry_…"Listen," he said as he put his hands on her shoulders.  "I'm not letting you leave because I need your help with this."  _Gods, you look so kissable, _he thought, but knew that would be a very, very bad idea right now.

"Just let her go," Ron said coolly, leaning back against the wall, still in his spot on the floor.  "She's probably got a dinner date to get ready for."

Harry was still watching Hermione closely and he saw her eyes narrow and turn hard as she heard Ron's words.  "Ron," he said, still looking at Hermione, "I need your help, too."

"Yeah well, I'm not the one getting all hacked off at nothing and then trying to run away, mate."

"No, Ron," Harry said as he turned and sent his friend a disappointed look.  "But you're the one who's making Hermione get hacked off and making her want to want to run away.  And seeing as how I just said I need her help as well, you're not doing me any favors by being a prat."  He turned back to Hermione and saw she was more in control now.  He reluctantly removed his hands from her shoulders, giving them a brief squeeze before he let go and said, "We need a plan and to do this, we need Hermione's brain and we need you, Ron, to go along with this."  Ron started to open his mouth but Harry plowed on, "I can handle being civil to a Slytherin, although I admit, Malfoy is a bit of a stretch and not too likely to happen.  But, that means you can't get all suspicious and accusatory if I happen to help out some person, who, mind you, has never said one word against any of us that I've ever heard."

"You're mad, Harry--I told you there's not a dark witch nor wizard alive that didn't come from that house," Ron said simply.

"_Pettigrew_," Harry spat, more venomously than he'd intended.  "Or, did you forget about the pet rat who used to sleep in the bed with you?"  Harry knew that was a bit vicious and maybe a tad uncalled for, but then again, so was Ron's prejudicial attitude.  

Ron paled at the reminder to his having harbored the one responsible for the death of Harry's parents.  "But…but he wasn't a dark…he was _weak_," said Ron feebly.

An anger roiled inside Harry that caused a tumult of emotions and prevented him for forming words to respond.  He calmed when he felt Hermione's hand on his shoulder now. "Harry," she said quietly, "maybe we should…we're all a little high strung right now.  Can we think on this and talk about if later?" 

Harry closed his eyes and took a breath.  "I need to meet with Professor Dumbledore tomorrow afternoon to discuss this," he said with barely-schooled frustration.

"Ok, ok, then," Hermione said.  "We can get together later tonight, after dinner."

Harry nodded and he saw Ron stand up abruptly then.  "Well," Ron said, looking beadily at the bubble and then at Harry and Hermione, who still had her hand on his shoulder, "are you going to let us out of this thing?" 

Harry waved the privacy bubble away and watched Ron walk out, leaving he and Hermione alone.  Harry let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.  "Why is this so hard?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"_Colloportus!"_ he heard Hermione say, sealing the door shut.  He turned to see her smile sadly up at him and then bring his mouth down for a soft kiss.  "I don't know," she whispered softly in his ear, making his forget all about Ron, Snape, house rivalries and rats that betrayed.  "But if you can conjure up a mattress, then maybe the floor won't be so hard."  

He could hardly contain the thrill he felt that Hermione Granger was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting and eagerly expressed his enthusiasm.  

"I do love your ideas," he said, kissing her neck and marveling at what a clever, clever witch Hermione really was.

*          ~            *            ~            *            ~            *


	23. Chapter 26 Boggarts, Dementors and The M...

Chapter 26. Boggarts, Dementors and The Mirror of Erised

"Someone's worked up an appetite," Dean said as he watched Harry tuck in to his second helping of trifle.  Harry just grinned as he licked the back of his fork.

"Hey, Harry," said Seamus, "when are we going to start up the DA again?  Snape's class was almost as dull as Umbridge's."  Harry and Hermione both winced at the sound of _her name.    Several others chimed in, enthusiastic to hear the answer to Seamus' question._

Parvati Patil added, "Padma says that all the other Ravenclaws who weren't in the DA are _livid that they missed out on a chance to learn and get a top mark on the Defense OWL.  I'd imagine, Harry, that there're a good number of people who would love to join the group this year if you do it."_

"Are you talking about the DA?" Ernie Macmillan said, leading a small group of Hufflepuffs and settling into some of the now-vacant seats at the Gryffindor table.   

"Yes," Hermione said, "we just need to decide when to meet." 

Ron leaned to the side and waved at Luna, beckoning her over to their table and then to sit beside him.  

"Hello, Ronald," she said dreamily, goggling at him as she slid in beside him. Padma Patil, Terry Boot and Anthony Goldstein followed her and hurried over as well to the Gryffindor table.  

There was now a rather large group clustered around one end of the Gryffindor table, all voicing their eagerness to learn more defense.

"Do you all still have your galleons?" Hermione asked.  They all nodded and several people pulled them out of their pockets to display them in their palms.  Hermione glanced furtively at the head table and said, "Excellent.  But we still ought to keep mum about this, if Snape were to find out we didn't think he was good enough and he saw this as going around him…" there were some shudders and several doleful nods around the table.  Snape's reputation seemed to run far beyond just Gryffindor House.

"So, we'll still use the galleons?" Susan Bones asked.

Hermione looked to Harry who nodded and he then said, "So how about sometime next week we meet and—"

"No!" several voices cried out.

"Sooner!" several others urged.

"Okay, okay," Harry said, with his hands out in a placating gesture, a bit surprised at how keen everyone seemed.  "We'll meet sooner then—"

"How about tonight?" Neville volunteered.

"Yeah."

"Works for me."

"Same place then?"

It was as if the obsession for learning that had always infected Hermione, had now spread, causing an epidemic of academic over-eagerness.  Seeing not much of a choice but to go along, Harry said, "I guess that settles it then."

"A-hem," a voice said, causing a few people to peer over their shoulders to find the speaker.

Some people parted the way to reveal a cool-looking Cho Chang, standing with her arms crossed and looking at Harry with erstwhile determination. 

"Oh, don't worry, Cho," Terry Boot said, "we've not forgot about you. We're—_oof!_"  An elbow into his ribs shut him up and Cho acted like she hadn't heard him at all.  Harry was having a distinctly bad feeling about this.

"A word—Mr. Quidditch Captain?" Cho said, jerking her head to one side in her best impersonation of a strict Professor McGonagall.

"Woo-hoo, Captain!" Dean shouted.  

A few fists thumped the table and a couple shouts of "Hear-hear!" and a "Lions for the Cup!" resounded from boisterous Gryffindors.

"Er, sure," said Harry reluctantly, who quickly snuck a glance at Hermione to try to silently beg for a way out of this if he needed an escape route.

"What do you want with him?" Ron asked loudly as he eyed Cho beadily.  Her silver Head Girl badge gleamed beside her silver raven pin, denoting her status as Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain.

"Team business, none of _your business," she said coolly, not even looking at Ron._

"I'll be back in just moment," Harry said to those around him.  He added quietly, "Hopefully soon."

"Has Ravenclaw scheduled their team try-outs yet?" Ron asked, more boldly this time.

Cho turned to glare at him and said, "Yes, as a matter of fact we have.  And I would like to have scheduled some practices as well, however, _someone," she turned her glare to Harry now, "took all the prime time slots on the pitch!"_

"Don't look at me!" Harry defended himself quickly.  "Slytherin took the _real prime spots!  I didn't take any more than they did!"_

"What do you mean they're all taken?" Zacharias Smith stood up and asked nervously.  Harry saw Ron smirk smugly at this.  

"He took all the dinner slots!" Cho said accusingly as she pointed at Harry.

"And Slytherin had already booked all the late afternoon slots—so what?" Ron challenged, standing up and glaring down at Cho.  "Anyway—we only took the first _half of dinner."_

"Oh, _that's_ helpful," Cho said sarcastically.  "We always did love to practice in the dark."

"Perfect then." Ron said smugly, sitting back down and smiling at Luna as she dreamily smiled back.

"I don't think so!" said Cho indignantly.  She moved in front of Harry and tried to use her petite frame to look intimidating as she commanded, "Look, you're going to have to give us some of your practice time."

"Yeah, we—we'll need time to practice, too!" Smith said hurriedly as he watched them anxiously.  Harry was sure that Smith was just afraid of looking like he'd failed as a captain even before he did anything as captain of the Hufflepuff team.  Harry almost felt sorry for him, not really, but…almost. 

A clamour rose up as everyone around the Gryffindor table voiced their demand that their House team get equal practice time. 

"Is there a problem here?" McGonagall's voice silenced the group.  

Cho immediately pointed at Harry and said, "He's booked all the practice slots for the pitch!"

"Not all, you twit," Ron grumbled, looking at her disgustedly.

"Weasley!  There is no need for name-calling," McGonagall said.  "Potter," she jerked her head to the side, much as Cho had done to try to talk to Harry alone at first.  But this time, Harry hurried over to speak to his Head of House.  

"What is the meaning of all this?" she asked Harry quietly.

Harry explained how Slytherin had booked all their practices when he'd gone down to see Madame Hooch and how he reckoned he ought to get some time booked while he could.  

"Did you find out who the Slytherin Captain is?" she asked eagerly.

Harry shook his head.  "Nooo…"

Her face fell.  "Damn.  Sev—Professor Snape _still_ hasn't revealed who the captain is this year."  Her eyes narrowed and she said with a shrewd look at the Head table where Snape was watching them all closely, "He's not allowed to book time.  In fact, it's customary that it's only done _after the teams have been chosen.  All right—back."  She pointed for Harry to return to the group._

"Pay attention now," Professor McGonagall said to the gathering.  "The pitch is only to be booked for tryouts this week.  Only after all four teams have chosen their respective teams, will practice times be scheduled.  All the captains will work this out to ensure fair and equal practice opportunities."

Cho seemed mollified and Smith looked extremely relieved and shot Harry a smug look.  Yup, Harry was definitely not feeling sorry for that prat at all.  Ron grumbled something about, 'first come, first served', but Harry did think it sounded fairer than expecting him to give over time to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.  

Harry waited until McGonagall left them alone and then leaned into the center of the group and said, "All right, let's meet in half an hour at the same place?"

"Should we bring others who want to come?" Padma asked.

Harry shook his head, "Not yet.  Let's just meet together first.  We can decide more then."  He added, "And clear off now for a bit.  We don't want a whole herd of us all heading there together."  With that, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws dispersed and Lavender and Parvati said they needed to go back to the Common Room to get ready.

Harry looked up, feeling someone watching him, to see Cho still standing there with her arms crossed, with an unreadable look on her face.  Harry sighed and said to her, "You're welcome to come too, of course."

He felt an arm thread through his and he looked down to see Ginny grinning cheekily up at him.  "Let's go there early, Harry.  Shall we?" she said as she batted her lashes flirtatiously and then turned to smile at Cho.

Harry thought it was a miracle that Cho didn't try to hex Ginny before she whirled and stormed off out of the Great Hall.

"Sorry, Harry," Ginny whispered as she unthreaded her arm from his.  "It looked like you might have needed some help there with her."

Harry paced before the wall that held the entrance to the Room of Requirement as Ron, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Neville and Hermione stood behind him.  _I need a room to practice and teach defense…a room where none may spy upon us…_

The door sprang into view and Harry grasped the brass handle and opened the door.  The room looked nearly the same as it had the previous year.  

"Can you believe Cho?" Ron said as he plopped down on two cushions.

"Yeah, what was up with her?" Seamus said, scowling.

Harry thought he ought to be fair and say she did have some right to upset and so he said, "Well, we _did nick the last practice slots, Ron."_

"So?" he said, shrugging.  "Tough luck for her, mate.  Things can't always go her way."

"I wouldn't exactly say things always go her way, Ron," Ginny said sitting cross-legged on the floor, beside Dean.  "She did lose one boyfriend because he was killed by—well, by you know, _Tom_."

Harry looked at her with his head crooked to the side, "You know Dumbledore called him that.  At the Ministry."  He saw a chair off to the side of the room and summoned it over and sat down.

"So it's true then?" Seamus asked looking from Harry to the others.  "You guys really were at the Ministry that night last term?"

Harry really didn't want to talk about this right now, cursed himself for bringing it up and said, "Ah, so what do you all think about letting more people in the—"

"Yeah we were," Ron said sitting up and looking strangely at Harry.  "Must have been, what, a dozen Death Eaters there?"  He looked to Neville and Ginny to confirm this and went on, "But look who's still fighting and look who's now rotting in a cell."  Harry felt an annoying anger building at Ron's cavalier account of the event that cost Sirius his life, and that had changed Harry's life forever.  

"Ron…" Hermione said tiredly.

"Whoa…so you guys helped to capture all those Death Eaters?" Seamus asked with awe, looking around at them all.

"Yeah, they didn't know what hit 'em," Ron started to say.

"No—" Ginny said abruptly, scrunching her face up at Ron, "Dumbledore is the one who captured them all."

"Oh, and we didn't fight them all the while before anyone came to help?" Ron said, leaning forward, challenging his little sister.

"We weren't doing very well at all, Ron, until Dumbledore showed up," said Neville quietly.  "And even after that…" he trailed off as he looked at Harry with sorrow.

Harry felt grateful for Neville bringing the memory of the night back to the reality of its loss and tried desperately to turn the subject.   "Does anyone—"

"Did you get a reward?" Seamus asked, wide-eyed.

"No," Hermione said quickly, "_we didn't do much of anything that warrants any reward."_

Harry let loose a spray of red sparks from his wand into the air.  "Can we please drop this topic?" he said coolly as he stood up.  "I'm sorry I brought it up.  Since _we're_ here at least, let me run something by all of you."  Harry wasn't looking at any of them and just looking down at the floor as he paced a few steps and stopped.  "What are your thoughts on letting new members into the group?"  He looked up and said, "Dean, what do you think?"

"Sounds like you'd have to beat 'em off to keep 'em away, mate."

"Ginny?" Harry prompted.

"Well, Harry, I think if anyone wants help learning to defend themselves, then we can't just turn them away." Hermione nodded at this, as did Neville.

"I agree and all, o'course, but won't it just end with the same problem we've got in class now?  A group of advanced people and then another who can barely wave a wand?" Seamus said.

"Maybe," Neville said looking at Harry, "if we all help the new people to catch up, then we can review last year at the same time as helping them.  Then we can all move on and learn new stuff, wouldn't that work, Harry?"

Harry smiled as he saw Hermione nodding emphatically and he said, "Yeah, actually, I was kind of thinking something like that, Neville."  Neville looked flattered that he'd had a good idea and couldn't conceal a grin.  

"Will we all fit in here?" Ron asked, looking slightly distracted.

"Well," Harry said, "I think the room will adjust to be whatever size we need it to be."

"How do we decide who to let in?" Ginny asked, pulling her knees up to under her chin.

"Yeah, we wouldn't want another Marietta Edgecombe," Dean said darkly.

Harry looked to Hermione.  He knew she had been working with loyalty charms and jinxes as a project over the summer.  "I can get something for that," she said as she pulled out a book from her bag and began flipping pages.  

Soon, the Hufflepuffs arrived into the Room of Requirement.  A few moments later, two more groups, each of Ravenclaws came in.  Lastly, Colin Creevey, with his brother Dennis at his heels, burst in through the door, panting, as Lavender, Parvati and Katie Bell followed at much less panicked pace.

"We're—here," Colin said, gasping for breath. "Did we miss—anything?"

"No," Harry said, waving them to take a cushion. "We're just about to start.  Is that everyone?" he asked as he looked around the room.  "All right then, I was just batting around some ideas about how to let in new members.  We're all agreed we think this is a good thing, right?"

Everyone nodded eagerly, and Padma said, "Absolutely.  Although, I already told some others that I would teach them on my own, if you didn't want more people."  

"Well," Harry said, "you might be doing that anyway."  He explained that it might work fastest if everyone helped any new members catch up quickly to the same skill level.  "If we keep to a manageable size, then this should only take a few weeks of meetings to catch everyone up and we all can move on."

"What's manageable, Harry?" Justin Finch-Fletchly asked.

Harry chewed on his lip before answering and slowly said, "Well, I was thinking if we all recruited only a couple of people personally—people you can vouch for and all, then those can be the people who you'll be the one to help train them to catch up.  Maybe only two new members per person?"

Hermione was chewing on the end of her quill, she had been writing furiously while Harry had been talking.  "So," she said, "we'd rather be sponsoring the new members, yes?"

"Right," Harry said nodding at her and looking at her for her opinion.

"What if someone drags in a person who the rest of us don't think is trustworthy?" Ron asked.

"I've got that taken care of," said Hermione with a smug smile as she closed her book.  "And everyone call tell their new recruits that they'll be taking an oath of loyalty."

"To the group?" Zacharias Smith asked.

"No," Hermione said, "To Harry."

Harry had been surprised there were no objections to this, not even from Smith.  For nearly two hours, they reviewed the spells they'd learned the previous year and showed off any new skills they'd learned.  Harry was impressed to see that both Parvati and Padma had been practicing with each other all summer and they showed off several new maneuvers in an impromptu duel.  Harry partnered with Neville, as he had the year before, and was surprised to see that Neville had a new spark to his spell work and seemed to have gained a tremendous amount of quickness and even a fair amount of power.  Harry almost didn't recognize the spells Neville sent as being sent by Neville.

"It's my new wand," he said as he blushed with a grin when Harry had asked how he'd gotten so good over the summer.  "My grandmother bought it for me after I told her I'd broken the old one."  Harry recalled that Neville had been using his father's old wand but that had been snapped at the Ministry last term.  He was very glad that Neville now had a wand of his own and one that seemed to be much more in tune with Neville's magic.

Shortly before curfew, Harry called a stop to the group and sent them back to their Common Rooms in small groups.  They'd made plans to meet again on soon, using their enchanted galleons to communicate and each would bring no more than two new members.  

As Harry and the last of the Gryffindors were about to leave, Ginny came over to Harry and asked, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"  

Harry looked up and saw Ron smirk and say, "We'll be waiting up for you two in the Common Room.  You've got fifteen minutes before curfew," as he pushed Neville, Dean and Hermione out the door.  

"I take it you two haven't told him yet?" Ginny asked, not really looking at Harry.

"Well, no," Harry said.  "I thought we would all tell him together.  You, me and Hermione—and Dean, too, if you want."  There was no way Harry was going to brave that storm alone, he thought.  

"Oh Merlin no, Harry!  I wouldn't put Dean through that!"  Ginny said wide-eyed and terror-stricken at the thought.  "I—I wasn't sure if you two wouldn't have just told him by now."

"Wasn't sure or you'd hoped we'd already told him?" Harry asked.  Ginny grinned at him and nodded.  Harry leaned back and sat upon a table top near the door.  "He's just been so hot and cold, lately.  It's like any little thing might set him off, you know?"  Harry asked, shaking his head at how volatile Ron had seemed so far.

"Gee, Harry, that doesn't sound familiar at all," said Ginny dryly.  

Harry looked up at her and then half-grinned.  "Oh, yeah, last year and all that…sorry about that.  Was I really that bad?"  Ginny nodded quickly and Harry looked down sheepishly.

"Mum calls it fits of the sullens," Ginny said.  "She says it's normal at this age.  But I sure never recall Fred and George acting like this.  I tried telling Ron he acts more like an ornery Percy than anything when he gets into a snit, but that just set him off again."

"What happened with Percy?" Harry asked.  "Didn't you all go meet him for dinner one night?"

Ginny shook her head, "No, he showed and then looked surprised to see us all there and then stormed out.  I think Dad tried to set it all up, but, well, that was a bad night for Mum."  Harry just nodded.  That had been the night that she'd tried to stop the twins from coming to their first Order meeting.  

"Well, I'm sorry about Percy," Harry said.

"It's not your fault, Harry."

Harry nodded.  "Right, but think how angry Ron will be if we don't come clean soon.  What's up with him and Luna?  I saw them partnered up tonight."

"Beats me, you've a better chance getting a straight answer out of a centaur than Luna."

"Did…did Hermione tell you want happened?  With her and Ron?" Harry asked tentatively.

Ginny nodded slowly, "Yeah, yeah she did."

"That's why he dropped those classes this summer—he didn't want to be around her, am I right?"  Ginny just shrugged and nodded.  Harry sighed and said, "I don't want him to get up in arms and then blow his chance at being an Auror and I don't want him to get angry and get into a fight with any of us.  I don't want him to blame Hermione for all this."  Harry saw that Ron still harboured resentment from her rejection of him and he'd seen Ron say hurtful things to her that seemed a manifestation of this resentment.  And then, he thought, it sometimes seemed like they'd just been trying to make up some plan to ease Ron into it and justify why they should wait, just so they'd have plans that could go wrong and give them reason to delay yet again.

"I know, Harry," said Ginny, looking up at him.  "It just doesn't seem fair."

Harry snorted as he slid off the table.  "I think I'm learning life is never fair.  So, when do we tell him—now?"

Ginny thought for a moment and then said, "He's locked into his class schedule after next week.  If we wait until then, he can't mess up his dream of being an Auror."

"Two weeks?" Harry said, mulling it over.

"Less than, actually," Ginny corrected.  It was obvious that the more time she had free reign with Dean, the better, she felt.

Harry couldn't deny that he felt an urge to put it off and this offered him the perfect justification for it.  "Okay then, I'll let Hermione know—or, you can.  Whoever sees her first, all right?"

 Ginny nodded. "Yup, we need to get back," she said as she checked her watch.

"Barely made it," Ron said as they walked through the portrait hole as he stood with his arms crossed, smirking and looking directly at his wristwatch and then between Ginny and Harry.

"Bite me, Ronnikins," Ginny said as she breezed past him and straight up to her dormitory.

Harry took up a chair at their usual table, across from where Hermione was sitting and spreading out several books upon the table.

"Did you hack her off?" Ron asked suspiciously as he sat down beside Harry.

"Nope," said simply as he pulled out a roll of parchment and then rummaged for a quill and ink.  Ron looked sceptical.  Harry looked up at Hermione and asked, "You find anyone with your same Potions essay?"

"Nuh-uh," Hermione said without looking up from her writing.  She paused and said, "But Padma did say she had the same essay as you.  I warned her you might want to compare and she said she'd be happy to."  

Harry smiled at this; he'd hate to hand anything in to Snape without some sort of comparison meter with which to judge his work—lord knows Snape's grading system was no indication to quality.

"Hah," Ron said smugly, leaning back on his chair.  "Nobody said I had an essay to write for Potions."

Hermione looked up sharply at him and then back down at her work and sighed as she said in a bored voice, "Ron, you really think he won't expect an essay from you tomorrow?"  Ron shrugged apathetically.

Harry had begun to write up a notice to post in the Common Room about Gryffindor Quidditch Try-outs and said, "Snape probably wants you to find out all the different essays he's assigned and then to do them all—just so he can say you only had to do one.  Nothing less would satisfy him, mate."

"Exactly," Ron said.  "So why bother trying to please the git?"

Harry could feel that Hermione was having a heck of a time biting her tongue and not ranting upon Ron's precarious placement into NEWT Potions but Ron, wisely, changed the subject and asked, "Is it true Harry, what Hermione said, that you and her didn't have to do the essay for McGonagall?" Harry nodded and smiled with not much sorrow, at Ron.  "Bugger!" 

"Sorry, mate," Harry said.  "But we did more work than any essay this summer—she taught me more in one month than she has in over five years of classes.  Plus she had us both doing several smaller assignments—researching and working with theory.  We really didn't get off easy, you know."

"Well, bugger again," Ron said dejectedly.  "You know, it's all your fault Harry.  If you and Ginny wouldn't have gotten mum in such a snit over you two, then I could stayed there with you two and I wouldn't have had to listen to mum natter on and on, lecturing both me and Ginny about," Ron's voice mimicked his mum's as he said, "_abstinence is always the most romantic and saying _one mustn't get lost in the moment and forget the proper protections_!"  Ron shook his head, "I tell you, the number of times she harped on contraceptive charms and chastity jinxes—although mind you, she seemed of two minds about telling Ginny something that might hurt you."  Ron laughed at the thought.  _

_Proper protections…_  Harry had been listening absently as Ron was talking but as the topic turned to…_proper protections_…he suddenly felt a rather queasy in the stomach and like a ton of brinks had landed on his chest.  Harry was now becoming fully aware that, and he felt increasingly embarrassed about this, the furthest thing from his often blood-deprived mind these past few days, had been making sure precautions were in place to prevent the next generation of Potter.  With dread and trepidation, he slowly looked up from his parchment (which now had a very large ink blot on it) to see Hermione.

Hermione seemed to be writing away, oblivious to the conversation.  Harry really couldn't believe that practical, always-prepared Hermione would not have remembered something as important as this.  But still…the queasiness was only building.  

"Oi, Seamus," Harry vaguely heard Ron call out and then mutter, "I'm off in search of a Transfiguration essay, then."

Harry was still transfixed on Hermione's oblivious demeanor.   "Er, Hermione?" Harry asked in what sounded to him like a very high, strained voice.

"Hmm," she said as she read something and nibbled upon the feathered end of her quill.  

"Did you, er, I mean, well," Harry was trying to keep his voice as low as possible and he really wished Hermione would just look at him and put his mind to ease (not to mention his stomach).  "Did you just hear Ron?"

Hermione looked up and then over at Ron, sitting with Dean and Seamus.  "What?  Oh yeah, I'm sure he's getting their essays to copy now."  She went back to her book, humming a tune softly.

"No, not that," Harry said.  "I mean, I meant before that."

Hermione looked up slowly at Harry and gave him a bewildered look and said, "I'm not sure what you mean, Harry," and then looked to him expectantly for an explanation.

Harry felt the sinking feeling reach a new low at the prospect of trying to bring this up here and now, but then he got the strangest notion.  He and Hermione were looking into each other's eyes and as he watched her face and saw into those brown eyes, he got the distinct notion that Hermione knew exactly what he was talking about.  He got the notion that she was trying to rattle him just to see him squirm and that she really wanted to laugh at him right now.  "Are you trying not to laugh at me?" he asked immediately.

Hermione coughed in what sounded more like a laugh turned into a cough and then schooled her face again and looked straight at Harry as she said, "Now why would I laugh at you?"

That notion was still there as he held her eyes, and was trying to read her face.  "I know you would never forget something so important," he said much more calmly than he really felt.  But he was definitely under the impression that Hermione had heard everything and since she had taken care of it and he'd never even asked; she felt making him squirm was due payback.  "I'm not worried," he said to test her.

Hermione's face changed rapidly—her mouth dropped and she said, "Well what if I had?   Then where would you be now?"

"Aha!" Harry said triumphantly.  He lowered his voice as he said, "I knew you knew what I was talking about.  And," he added smugly, "I knew you were lying to me."

Hermione scowled at him.  "How?" she demanded.

Harry leaned forward and whispered, "I've started getting flashes of Legillimencing skills.  I'm right aren't I?"

Hermione nodded slowly.  "Wow, you're progressing really well then," she said, but then added with a pointed finger, "But don't you dare think you didn't deserve to sit there and squirm."

Harry hid a small smile at this.  "So everything's…it's all…you know?"

"Taken care of?" Hermione said patronizingly.  "Yes, Harry, we're fine."  She couldn't help a small smile at him.  "It was after all, in a certain _book_," she muttered as she went back to her work.   Harry grinned and stretched out a leg beneath the table, leaning it against hers and then continuing on with the try-out notice.  

"I was wondering why you weren't wearing the pin," Ron said as the trio walked out of Transfiguration.  

McGonagall had given Harry both his captain pin and a tattered and worn book of plays that had been passed down among the Gryffindor captains for over three centuries.  

"Can I see the playbook?" Ron asked excitedly.  "I remember Charlie talking all about it and how he has nearly a dozen plays in there to his credit."

Harry shook his head and held his book bag protectively, "And risk having you lose it when we walk into the Potions dungeon?  No way—not now."

"Harry's right, Ron," Hermione said as she led the way down several flights of stairs and across the castle.  "Something that old and sacred should be treated with extreme care."  She turned to Harry and asked, "Should we charm it?"

Hermione had taught Harry the spell she'd found that would make any book or piece of parchment appear blank unless one knew the proper password.  It was likely the same spell that was on the Marauders' Map.  But they had found that if they added a switching spell glamour on top of it, then even if you were reading the enchanted pages right in front of someone else, all they would see is something else.  They'd used it on her notes from all the Order meetings and Harry had used it on his journal and, most recently, The Book. .  In the case of Harry's journal, a copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages appeared to anyone who didn't know he had a journal.  _

"Yeah, that's a brilliant idea."  He jumped over to a statue and pulled Ron and Hermione behind it with him.  He rummaged through his bag for the book and handed it to Hermione.

"What are you doing?  You won't let me look at it but you'll pull it out for Hermione?" Ron said looking at the coveted playbook and licking his lips.

"Shh," Hermione said and then asked, "What do you want the password to be, Harry?  Something only a Gryffindor would ever be able to say?"

Harry thought for a moment and then said, "I should do it.  Can you tell if there are any other spells on it right now?"

Hermione waved her wand over it and the book was infused with a soft pale light.  She shook her head, "None beside the moving sketches and transcribed writings."

Harry pointed his wand at the book and muttered the Enchantment and then muttered the intended phrase that would activate the charm, "_I bleed Gryffindor red_."

"What are you muttering?" Ron asked impatiently.

"What does it look like now?" Harry asked holding up the book.

Ron gaped down at the book that now looked like a report entitled, _An International Assessment of Cauldron-Bottom Thickness_.  "Harry!  What happened to the—"

Hermione slapped her hand over Ron's mouth, "Shh!  He charmed it so no one will find out what it is and even if they do—they wouldn't be able to read it.  C'mon—we need to hurry to class!" she said dragging them back into the hall and hurrying down the last flight of stairs and into the dungeons.

They filed into a dungeon room that they'd never seen before.  It was obviously a potions classroom but it was much smaller than their previous classroom.  It had several long marble worktables, each with four stools around them.  Each work area also had a short, wooden chopping block table for slicing and dicing and a blackened area on the floor where it was clear, everyone would set their fires for their cauldrons.  They took one of the stations near the back of the room, next to some Ravenclaws and waved Neville over to their table as soon as he reluctantly peered into the room.

"Thank god I can at least sit by people I know," he said gratefully.

"Not for long," Hermione said.  "I've heard we'll be regrouped for the rest of the course and judging by the fact that we," she waved at Harry and Neville, "all had different essays, then we definitely won't be together."

Neville's face fell and Ron seemed about to panic.  Harry said, "Well then Padma would be in my group." That didn't sound so bad.  He had gone over to the Ravenclaw table at breakfast and offered to swap Potions essays since finding out they had the same assignment.  He hadn't found anything in her essay that he hadn't already included and in fact, she had made a note to add several of his points to her essay.  

The bell rang and as the sound died away, the door to the classroom slammed shut and Snape was striding to the front of the classroom.  "Settle down," said Snape coldly as he whirled to face the class, unfurling his bat-like arms and then crossing them in front of his chest.  

The class had fallen silent as soon as he had entered the room and so there really was no nothing to settle down at all.  Snape sneered for good measure before continuing, "It has always been my desire and practice to only take the best into this class," his eyes paused pointedly upon Ron, Neville and Harry before he went on, "however, this year I have been forced to make exception to this high standard of quality. I would like to make you all aware of the fact that you are allowed enrollment into this course, contingent upon the consent of the instructor…me.  If any one of you fails to meet the standard of performance I deem required, I will not hesitate to remove you from this class.  This includes even those of you who had miraculously managed to weasel a mark of Outstanding upon your examination last term.  Mr. Weasley!"  Snape stared at Ron, boring his black eyes into the redhead's abject face of terror.  "I might point out to you that your presence in this class, despite your inability to meet the examination standard has you on an extremely short rope.  You are here due to a technicality. You shall prove yourself capable or you shall find yourself out."  With his teeth bared in a mockery of a smile, Snape said, "You have no margin for inadequacy."

Snape then pulled out the register from his robes and began checking the scroll to the students present silently.  Not a sound could be heard in the dungeon room.  When finished, he rolled the scroll back up and tucked it away into a fold of his robe and said, "Pull out your assignments."  There was some shuffling and shifting as everyone pulled out there scrolls of homework.  "Now…there were four different assignments, as some of you may have noticed.  You shall be working in teams for the remainder of your time in this class and your teams shall remain unchanged from now until you leave Hogwarts."  Harry thought Snape looked wistfully at Harry (_Probably can't wait until I'm gone_) as he said this. "Now, assuming you are not utterly daft, I shall assume you can now reassemble yourselves into these groups."  Snape stepped back and leaned against his desk as he obviously waited for everyone to follow his directions.  "Now!" he barked.

Harry got up and went over to Padma and said, "Well, we know we're together.  Are you the only Ravenclaw with our essay?"

"Yes," she said looking about the room as everyone was up and tentatively asking around to find those with matching essays.  Nearly half the class was Slytherins and Harry saw Ernie as the only Hufflepuff in the course. "Let's split up then," she said as she moved off across the room.

"Biochemical effects of mind-altering potions?" he heard Blaise Zabini ask him.  

Harry shook his head and said, "I think that was Hermione's though."

The Slytherin moved on with a short nod and Harry heard Padma call out, "Harry, over here!"

He sidestepped a disdainfully sneering Malfoy who seemed to be just sitting back, expecting people to seek him out.  He saw Padma sitting with two Slytherin girls; one of which was Millicent Bulstrode and the other, the same girl he'd helped the previous day in defense class.  "All four of us?" he asked.

Padma nodded, "There's fourteen in the class and that means two groups each of four and three."

Harry took a stool and watched the last two groups sort out.  Hermione was sitting beside Blaise Zabini and a Slytherin girl who Harry did not know.  He then noticed Ron sitting agitatedly back at his original table.  Since Ron didn't have an essay, he had no way of finding a group to which he should belong.  Harry felt a stab of pity for his friend and hoped Snape wouldn't try to use it to throw Ron out.

"You've got to be joking," came a disgusted drawl from behind.  Harry and the rest of the class turned to see Ernie and Neville standing in front of the still seated Malfoy, whose face was distorted in a look of utter disbelief and disgust.  It would have been rather funny if it weren't for the apparently poor fate for both Neville and Ernie.

"Mr. Malfoy, is there a problem?" Snape asked coolly and Harry turned with astonishment at the tone with which he addressed his formerly favoured pupil.  Malfoy was glaring defiant daggers at Snape and scowled openly as Ernie and Neville seated themselves at his workstation, albeit, as far away from Malfoy as possible.  

"Probably wanted to be grouped with you, Potter," Millicent said under her breath and Harry shuddered and then faked gagging, causing her and Padma both to smirk and hide their faces by looking down.

Snape glanced around at the newly assembled groups and stalked over to Ron, sitting all alone.  "Mr. Weasley, are you daft?"

"N-no, sir," Ron said as his voice cracked in a very adolescent way.  

"Then, why, Weasley have you not found your group, pray tell?" Snape could surely guess the reason but seemed quite intent on drawing this out to be as painful as possible for Ron.  Harry almost felt so bad for Ron that he would have wished to trade places to spare his friend the pain…almost.

Ron muttered something incoherent that Harry knew well enough was an explanation about his lack of having an essay question.  Snape made Ron repeat it though and then grinned sadistically as he said, "Were you not aware that an essay had been assigned to the students of this class, Weasley?"

"No, no sir, it's just I didn't know—"

"Did you think you would be afforded measures to compensate for your inferior intellect and abilities?"

Harry saw Hermione exchange a look with him; they both knew Ron should have gone to Snape to ask for an essay assignment.  But when they had tried to tell Ron this, he argued that he would not have had time to complete it anyway, which, in all fairness, was a truthful point.  

Snape was still hounding Ron and saying, "Since you seem to be unable to determine your proper group, I believe it may be best to assign you all of the essays to be completed.  By tomorrow.  During detention.  With me.   In fact, you may begin immediately after this class and spend your lunch hours here." Ron was so pale that Harry could see his freckles from across the room, even in the dimly lit dungeons.  "For now, you may take the seat beside Ms. Parkinson. Consider this your last courtesy, Weasley, the next one, _you walk_. Ah yes, and twenty points from Gryffindor…for being unprepared and for disabusing the favor which I granted your Head of House in allowing your pathetic existence in my class."

Harry shot Ron a sympathetic look as he joined a group consisting of Pansy Parkinson, Mandy Brocklehurst and a Ravenclaw boy.

Snape resumed his position at his desk and gleefully (for him, anyway) announced, "I had intended for you all to begin work on your group projects, however, due to Mr. Weasley's actions or lack thereof, I am relegated to an alternative lesson.  Pass your essay scrolls forward and clear your desks—there will be a quiz for the remainder of the period."

Snape then made them all spread out and spend the entire double period (nearly two hours!) scribbling answers to what Harry knew to be, incredibly advanced questions regarding potions.  He was grateful that he had read over Hermione's essay and had some of the answers in his memory.  He didn't have the exact answers for some questions regarding specific ingredients, but was at least able to describe what characteristics the correct ingredient would possess.  

Finally, at long last, the bell rang (one hundred and twelve questions into the quiz) and they all dropped their quills and massaged their cramped hands, several people shooting Ron murderous glares.  

"You are dismissed, except of course, for Mr. Weasley," Snape said, sneering maliciously. 

"I can't believe Ron!  I _told_ him…" Hermione was just shaking her head in exasperation as she and Harry followed Padma, Neville and Ernie to Lunch.  

"I know," said Harry, "I'm surprised it was only twenty points though."  He stopped suddenly and smiled brightly, "Hey!  That was the first Potions class I ever recall not having ever lost a point for Gryffindor!"

Hermione smiled and laughed, "Well, that almost makes up for Ron… or not."

"I take it Snape doesn't like you, Harry?" Padma asked innocently.

Harry guffawed, "Uh, yeah, one might say that."

Hermione informed her and Ernie, "It's not that he doesn't _like_ Harry—it's more that he _hates_ Harry."

"Why?" Ernie asked, again, innocently.

"'Cuz he's a greasy git, that's why," was all Harry offered as an explanation.  Hermione brooked no argument as they entered the Great Hall and broke apart to head to their respective tables.  

"Poor Ron," Harry said as they sat down.  "Snape really knows how to hurt him—taking away one of his meals."

Hermione said, with as much sympathy as she could muster, "Well, I know he has Herbology later this afternoon, maybe you could shove some food into your bag, Neville?  Give it to him to tide him over until dinner?"

Neville nodded, "Sure."

Hermione went on, "It's no wonder McGonagall told him he had to keep Herbology and Divination until he lasted the full two weeks of the drop/add period.  At this rate…"

"It's too late now," Harry said, not willing to sit here and listen to Hermione rant on about Ron even when Ron wasn't around.  "Say, I never got to ask you two about the house unity thing, did you have any ideas?"

Hermione cocked her head to the side, looking at Harry, "You don't have one already?"

He did a minor plan really involving trying to expand the DA group to include some of the more moderate Slytherins, but still, Hermione was always the one with the real plans.  "Well, sorta'…but that's just the DA thing.  You know, hopefully a few of our new members will be from Slytherin."

Neville stopped eating for a moment and looked at Harry as if he was questioning if it truly was Harry.  

"What?" Harry said.  "They can't all be bad, can they?  I think Malfoy, the loudmouth, just gives them a bad name."  As an afterthought, Harry added, "Well, he and Voldemort, really."  Neville flinched at the name and dropped his fork and Harry gave him a sharp look.  "You know, maybe one of our lessons should be learning to say the name."  Neville paled at this, as he would if being grilled with questions by Snape.  Harry said, "Well, perhaps, we should start with being able to tolerate _hearing_ the name."  Neville still didn't look any happier and Harry turned back to his lunch.

"I think those are excellent ideas, Harry," Hermione said proudly.  "I also might have something to suggest but I won't know for sure until we have the first Prefect meeting."  Harry looked up at her and grinned, gave her a wink and then went back to his lunch.

After finishing his plate, Neville packed a napkin with a few sandwiches and stuffed them in his bag for Ron before heading off to the greenhouses.

"I have Arithmancy next; today's your first day teaching, right?" Hermione said to Harry, smiling.

Harry felt his stomach flip at the thought and said, "Yeah, but I have my private study time with Dumbledore first."

Hermione looked jealous at the idea of private lessons with the headmaster.  Over the summer, she'd been able to join in with most of Harry's training but his sessions with Dumbledore had not been open to her.  Sure she had been able to talk with him often and he did join in spontaneously a few times to help with training, but it was nothing compared to the time Harry got to spend with the veritable wealth of walking knowledge and wisdom.

"Don't look so jealous, Hermione," Harry scolded playfully.  "I teach you everything I know."

"You do not, Potter!" Hermione said.  "There are _plenty of things you've not taught me to do."_

"Oh? Like what?" Harry said curiously as they both rose from the table and then headed out of the Hall.

"Like how you manage to be so silent when you apparate," Hermione whispered.

"So you want to know my secret, eh?" Harry said as he turned to look at her as they walked.

"Yes, yes I do, Harry Potter.  Tell me your secrets," Hermione said playfully in a low voice.

Harry pretended to think on it and asked, "And just what would be in this for me?  In return?"

Hermione pretended to do some thinking of her own and answered suggestively; "Perhaps I might let you pick out something new from your little _book_?"

"_My_ book?  Ah, so now it's _my book…" Harry said, seeming to consider this carefully, slowed down and peered into an open classroom.  Seeing it empty, he turned and pulled Hermione in the room and sealed the door before turning to her with a predatory grin._

"I don't think we have time to do this right now, though, Harry," said Hermione, clearly amused at his enthusiasm. 

"No?" said Harry as he dropped his book bag and, placing his hands on her hips, drew her tight against him.  "We have time for a proper kiss, though.  Consider it our good night kiss we missed out on last night as well as the good morning kiss I never got this morning."  His lips ghosted over hers. 

"That sounds like two kisses then," Hermione said breathily as she clasped her arms around Harry's neck and then laced one hand up and into his perpetually messy locks.  

"I've missed you," Harry whispered just as he claimed her mouth with his own, desperately trying to reacquaint his lips with the feel of hers.  Her mouth opened, entreatingly, beneath his and she moaned as his tongue caressed hers.   

Just the sound of Hermione moaning was enough to make Harry want to divest them of all their clothing and take her right there.  He responded by running his hands up and under her robes.  Her tucked in shirt offered him no access and his hands slid lower, over the swell of her hips and he gathered her skirt in one hand until he could feel the soft skin of her upper thigh beneath.  

He felt her nails scrape at his scalp and as she tilted back her head, he dove in to kiss her neck, cursing the closed collar of her uniform.

"Harry," came her breathy moan that only seemed to sound like encouragement.  More kisses and caresses of hands.

"We need to get going."  That moan sounded a little less like encouragement; probably meant he ought to try harder.  

"Harry," Hermione said more clearly, making him finally pull back from her neck to lean his forehead against hers.  "We've got only a few more minutes to get to class."

Harry gave her a sad smile as he said, "Okay.  Did Ginny talk to you?  About telling Ron?"

Hermione nodded softly, still resting her head against his. "Yeah, that sounds good, especially now when Ron is probably debating dropping out of Potions as we speak.  He's got enough to deal with."

Harry gave her a soft kiss on the lips and said, "I miss you so much at night."  He moved his arms up, smoothed down her skirt and wrapped his arms around her back, holding her tight.  "Just holding you."

"I know," Hermione said as she rested her head on his shoulder now, breathing in his scent; something like mint tea and…pumpkin pie.  "Me, too."

They pulled apart enough to smile at each other. "We need to go," Harry said.

"Yup," Hermione said as she rumpled Harry's hair playfully before pulling away reluctantly.

"Hey! You messed up my hair!  What _will_ people say?" 

Hermione smirked as she smoothed her robes and said, "They'll think you've been snogging with Malfoy."

"Oh!" Harry said, wounded and mortified at the thought.  "You'll pay for that, Granger."

Finally, they surreptitiously left the empty classroom and Hermione had to trot off to make it in time for her class.  Harry was, fortunately, quite close to the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office.

"Ice Mice," he said to make the stone gargoyle spring aside to reveal the entrance.  The door to the office was already open and Harry saw Dumbledore look up and smile merrily as the moving staircase reached the top.  Fawkes let out a trill in greeting and Harry said, "Good afternoon, Fawkes, Professor."

"Harry," Dumbledore said, rising from his high-backed chair behind his desk, "it's always a pleasure to see you. Come; let's sit comfortably by the fire." Dumbledore gestured for Harry to take one of the armchairs and Harry was grateful.  The last time he'd spent any real length of time in this office, he'd been seated in the stiff-backed chair in front of the desk and had just witnessed his godfather's death and was being told his predestined fate.  He much preferred the less formal squashy chair by the fireplace.  

"How are classes for you?" he asked twinkling brightly at Harry.

"Fine, sir, just fine.  All the extra work this summer has made everything seem quite easy thus far," Harry said.  He'd breezed through his Charms and Transfiguration lessons with his now broad knowledge of practical applications of these subjects.  Harry no longer just saw a charm that enchants a door to open upon a single person's touch, but, rather, a possible spell to be used to ensure privacy and to increase security.  He was now seeing class lessons as merely examples of the applications for a spell.  Many of his notes from class were actually his rambling questions regarding potential uses of these new spells or musings as to whether the spell structure or theory might be applied elsewhere to create an entirely new effect.  A few times, in fact, he had actually found himself wondering if perhaps he'd been spending a little too much time around Hermione.

"Well, hopefully, you will still find challenge in your classes, Harry."

"Oh, I don't doubt I will, sir," replied Harry grimly recalling Snape's sadistic smiles thrown at him when he spoke of the course load for NEWT Potions.  

"This afternoon is your first class teaching. Did you have a chance to look over the lesson plans I gave you?" Dumbledore asked, watching Harry closely, as always.

"Yes, sir, I have.  Er, I do have a few questions, I suppose."  Actually he only had a few but Hermione, after reading through the lesson plan book at breakfast had peppered him with all sorts of questions on their way to Transfiguration as to his rights and responsibilities as an assistant professor.  

"Best clear them up now, then.  What are they?"

"Well, you have homework assignments and tests in here to be given, am I also to be the one correcting this work?  Do I, and mind you these are things I hadn't thought about until my friends brought them up, do I have the right to award and deduct House points during class for performance and behaviour?   Is there a place I may keep assignments and tests and such and to work on these things, if it is indeed my responsibility to do so, other than my Common Room, where I can have a reasonable assurance that members of the class are not present and privy to this information nor able to hover over my shoulder as I perhaps grade their work.  Is there--"

Dumbledore held his hands up to quiet Harry and grinned as he laughed and said, "I see I forgot a few minor details when giving you this assignment, yes, yes.  Well, first off, consider yourself entitled to all the rights of a full professor while acting in your capacity as a professor.  This includes, yes, you may have the right to award and deduct House points, as well as assign any detentions warranted by your students.  

"As Professor Snape still holds his chambers and private office still in his dungeons, in close proximity to his House, there is no one currently utilizing the Defense office, behind the Defense classroom.  Now, assuming you don't believe it to be cursed and you haven't too many horrid memories from years past in that office, you may feel free to use this space.  It is likely you will need it not just to have a location to perform your duties such as reviewing and correcting assignments and tests, which is indeed your responsibility, but also, as the third year curriculum is devoted largely to the study of dark creatures, you will need the space to store and maintain some class props and creatures for study."   Dumbledore paused at this for a moment as Harry nodded along his understanding.  

"I will, Harry, take care of procuring the majority of creatures needed for study in your class.  Hagrid, I know, has a colony of Kappas that he is holding for his classes, and in a few weeks, these will likely be your first specimens for a practical creature lesson."  

Harry was recalling the wonderful lessons he'd had with Lupin; Grindylows, Red Caps, Boggarts…_Boggarts!  How in the world was he supposed to control a Boggart that for him, turned into a Dementor, for an entire class to practice with?  "Er, sir?  Will there be a practical lesson with Boggarts?" _

Dumbledore seemed to beam with his twinkling blue eyes at Harry as he answered casually, "But of course."

"Er, well, but, er, sir—how exactly _wise_ is that, when you know what my Boggart turns into?  Wouldn't that just turn into an even bigger problem?"  A Dementor loose in the classroom would be just enough to throw a group of third years into a hysteria worse than finding out they had Snape as a teacher for every class. 

"And tell me, Harry, just what would your Boggart be?" Dumbledore asked in a way that made Harry slightly wary that this was a trick question.

"A Dementor, sir.  It's always been a Dementor."  Harry thought this would have been common knowledge to Dumbledore.

Settling back into his chair and templing his hands before him, Dumbledore went into his teaching mode where he would prompt Harry to answer questions, thus leading Harry to learn something that, after it was all said and out, Harry often felt it should have been obvious to begin with.  "You recall, Harry, just what a Boggart does and how, yes?"

"Yes sir, it's a shape shifter.  It takes the shape of a person's worst fear," Harry said reciting the textbook definition (or rather, Hermione's definition).  

"True, true," Dumbledore said, nodding vaguely.  "But how does it do this?"

"Ah, er, well..."  Harry wasn't sure about that one.  "Magic?" he answered knowing it was a safe answer.

Dumbledore chuckled.  "But of course, magic.  Let me ask you this, Harry.  Do you think one's greatest fear may ever change?"

"Oh, definitely," he answered immediately.  He had just seen last year Mrs. Weasley's encounter with a Boggart that surely would not have been the same had Voldemort never been reborn.  

"And do you recall your last encounter with a real Dementor?"

"Of, course," Harry said quietly.  How could he ever forget the night two Dementors tried to attack him and his cousin Dudley in an alleyway.  He had barely managed to produce his Patronus in time to prevent Dudley from losing what passed for his soul.  

"And, Harry, were you not able to deal quite capably with these Dementors then?  Say, if you happened upon a lone Dementor somewhere, would you be paralysed with fear, or perhaps, would you just fight it and send it on its way?"

 Harry frowned, "Well, of course I'd fight it off.  I wouldn't really have time to be frightened, per se.  Once it starts its att---" Harry stopped abruptly.  _Once it starts its attack on my memories—just like a Legilimency attack!  I have to fight off the probing into my most dreaded and traumatic memories and feed forth memories of happiness to produce a Patronus—it's just like Occlumency filtering!  "It's a Legilimencer, isn't it?" Harry asked quickly, turning to Dumbledore for confirmation._

Dumbledore beamed, "Very good, Harry.  A Boggart is, indeed, a Legilimencer."

"Huh? No—a Dementor," Harry said shaking his head and then that hit him, too.  "Oh—_oh!"  One probes for your one worst fear and the other through your memories.  _"I never realized…"

Dumbledore grinned at Harry and said, "Yes, actually, the next stage of your mastery of Occlumency is to work with a Boggart.  Harry, before you will ever have to use one in your class, you and I will be using them for you to hone your Occlumency skills upon, agreed?"

"So, I'll be able to just prevent it from taking shape?  What does it look like when no one's around?" Harry mused.  

"You'll learn that, as well as learn how to quickly and effortlessly block your mind and feed forth thoughts of your own choosing to control the Boggart, like one might do to defend against an actual attack on the mind, Harry.  This is the best time of year for lurking Boggarts to be found and as soon as one is located, we will be using it in our sessions.  I wager, about four weeks working with the Boggart and you will be more than masterful enough to control the creature for your class."

This made Harry feel much better and it also meant that they would be starting in earnest upon his next level of Occlumency training.  He was truly enjoying his lessons with Dumbledore and his recent bouts of unexpected Legilimencing ability also had him eager to make more progress.  

"This training and skill shall also come in handy, Harry, for some other lessons I believe you will be giving."  Dumbledore looked meaningful at Harry and went on, "I know you'd begun to teach your fellow students the Patronus Charm last year.  However, for obvious reasons, you were not able to have them practice in the presence of a Dementor, or at least, an imitation of a Dementor."

"We can use a Boggart, yes!  That would be perfect—I was trying to explain how much more difficult it is to actually do the charm when a Dementor was present—but, yes—that will be most helpful," Harry said, already planning to use the Boggart in his DA lessons.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "a Boggart, with it's ability to Legilimence, is well suited to be an excellent imitation of a Dementor—minus, thankfully, the ability to actually administer its Kiss.  Obviously, other shapes a Boggart may assume, do not take on the actual _abilities_ of the fear.  For instance, a Boggart in the shape of a spider, really isn't harmful as a spider might be—or perhaps a most poignant example is remembering what Remus's Boggart shape was—"

"The full moon," said Harry.

"Yes, the full moon.  Which, quite thankfully, when a Boggart takes this form in the presence of a werewolf—it does _not cause the werewolf to morph now does it?"  Harry nodded his head, not ever having thought about these differences and what they all meant.  "A Boggart already has the ability to Legilimence and so, therefore can Legilimence if it takes the form of another creature that is a Legilimencer.  _

"Did you notice, Harry, in the lesson plans what I have scheduled for every other Friday?" Dumbledore asked as Harry was absorbing everything.

"Oh, yes, er, you had—what was it?  Oh yes, 'Practical Self-Defense' on the plans with no other description of the lessons.  I meant to ask about those as well, sir."

 Dumbledore grinned at Harry widely, "Those lessons, Harry, are for you to teach them what I'm sure they are most eager to have you teach them—Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Harry had not been worrying over handling teaching the class because he knew it was a set course, centering upon the handing of dark creatures for the third year level.  But now, this, information, delivered by a broadly grinning Dumbledore—this was worrisome.  "What, er, what do you mean, sir?"

"I mean, Harry," said Dumbledore, still grinning and twinkling, "they will be most anxious, I am sure, to have you teach them practical spells for defense and fighting--just like the rumors say you've taught other students, I left these plans for lessons undefined as I am sure since you've already done them before, you'll know what to do again."  Harry gaped at him and then snapped his mouth shut.  He supposed he should have seen this coming a mile away.  "Oh yes, and I have added into the curriculum for each year in Defense, as well as Charms classes, to cover the Patronus Charm—we can never be too prepared."

They moved into discussing Harry's plans for the DA this year and how they were prepared to expand the group.  He explained the precautions Hermione was to implement to protect the group's secrecy and, hopefully, to detect any potential members with nefarious intents.  

Harry also explained how he was secretly curious as to whether any current members would move to sponsor a member of Slytherin House.   He said that as far as trying to unify the Houses, he'd talked to Hermione and she said she might have some ideas that she may be able to work on, though she wouldn't know until the next Prefect meeting.  

Dumbledore nodded at his, not seeming any bit surprised.  "Have you thought about Mr. Malfoy, at all, Harry?" he asked, almost tentatively, as if he'd rather Harry had been the one to bring it up.  Their time was coming to a close, though, and Harry had intentionally been avoiding talk of Malfoy.

Harry sighed and looked down before he answered honestly, "I try not to, sir—just thinking about him is infuriating."  Dumbledore just looked on silently and Harry went on, "I'm sure you think there's hope for him, but I don't know what I can do about it.  He told me he wanted to kill me at the end of last year for causing his father to be captured and convicted; I don't think he's changed his feelings towards me about that—regardless of the current rumors."  

Harry couldn't help a small smirk as he thought about the fact that current opinion in Hogwarts was that Draco Malfoy, so appalled at finding out that his father had been in league with Voldemort and also involved with a plot to kill Harry, that Draco renounced his father's name and is currently, hopelessly (mainly hopeless because Harry had appeared to reject him) in love with Harry Potter.  

Dumbledore looked a bit stressed at this for a brief moment and then asked, "What do you think, Harry, if Draco Malfoy was given a choice between joining you or joining Voldemort—which would he choose?"

This was silly, Harry thought.  Malfoy had long ago declared his allegiance to his Dark Lord.  "Simple, sir—Voldemort.  He's as much as said so several times."

"And what about last year—when it was you and me, Harry—against our own Ministry and public opinion?  Whose side did he take?"

"The Ministry's—and he's the one who probably gave the Daily Prophet half of its " public opinions."

"Yes, and Harry, tell me—if his choice was between the Ministry and Voldemort—who do you think he would choose?"

Harry was about to answer "Voldemort' again, seeing it as a simple answer, but then he recalled how Lucius Malfoy had slipped out of charges for being a Death Eater and renounced Voldemort after his fall, claiming the Imperius Curse had made him do it.  "Well, I would guess that he—like his father—would choose whichever was most advantageous for Malfoy."

"Very good, Harry."  Dumbledore leaned forward and looked at Harry with a burning intensity, rarely seen in his eyes as he said, "You've already realized that people will make choices not only based upon their ideals, but also, because of what they might gain personally.  This is very important, Harry, to always keep in mind.  It goes for those who you would believe it to be a foregone conclusion that they support the ideals of being a Death Eater, as well as for those whom you might assume to take up against Voldemort."

Harry narrowed his eyes as he thought about this and said quietly, "Like Fudge was last year."

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly in surprise and he nodded, "Yes, the Minister was certainly guilty of acting upon his own best interests and not any ideals.  When faced with facts—he took a new route around it and chose to be in denial—an entirely different state of choice all together.  

"But the point, Harry, I need you to understand is that I'm very worried that our young Malfoy is obsessed with you."

Harry shook his head vigorously, "Sir, no—that was just the jinx—"

"No, not that, Harry.  If you think about it, has he not always gone out of his way to try and provoke you?"

"Well, yes, but I've tried to ignore him—he's always the one who starts it—"

"Exactly, Harry!  He is always watching you and trying to meddle in your life—even when it was just simpler schoolboy pranks.  Harry," Dumbledore looked deadly serious now, "if young Malfoy ever came upon the choice where he had to decide between two things—one of which was more advantageous to him than the other—I fear that his obsessive hate towards you might cause him to go against his own instincts and take the less advantageous choice, simply because he would never allow himself to be on the same side as you."

The bell signalling the changing of classes rang in the distance from the office and Harry absently heard Fawkes trill a few wavering notes.  But Harry didn't move.  He was transfixed; not by just the words Dumbledore had spoken, but because through the burning intensity of Dumbledore's eyes, he'd had a glimpse of someone once making those very choices that Malfoy may someday choose.  He'd seen a young greasy haired, hook-nosed teenager scowling and forsaking taking up with a group that held the likes of Sirius Black and James Potter.

"Smile, Harry!"  

With a _'pffwoomp!'_, Harry was temporarily blinded and even knowing it had been Colin's brother Dennis Creevey who'd taken the picture, he still had to resist the temptation to blast the source of the bright light with a well aimed curse.  

"Dennis…" said Harry warningly as he blinked rapidly to regain his sight, sans the bright white spots.  "If I see that camera in this class once more after today, I'll blast it to smithereens," said Harry feeling he ought to put a stop to this immediately.  

Other third year students were filing in to the classroom now and one said in an awed voice, "_Whoa, could you really blast something into smithereens?"_

Harry felt a blush creep into his cheeks as nearly all the third year students were now in the room and looking at him expectantly.  All appeared quite willing to sacrifice Dennis' camera to see Harry blast something into smithereens.  

"Well, if Dennis or anyone else tries to take another picture you just may find out," Harry said, hoping that would put an end to it.

Instead, Dennis looked like he was about to be the one to volunteer his camera for a demonstration.  Harry caught his look and, shaking his head, walked over to Dennis and held out his hand, "Why don't I keep that, just to save you the temptation."

"Well, it—it's Colin's, Harry…" Dennis said meekly, knowing his picture-obsessed brother might go even more spare if he lost his precious camera.

"Well then Colin can find--, er I mean, I'll give it back after class."  The last thing Harry needed was to actually encourage Colin Creevy to search him out.    

Harry set the camera down behind his desk and hearing the final bell for class ring, he unrolled the register scroll and began calling off names.

"Stewart Ackerly?"

"Present," said a small Hufflepuff boy sitting in the front row.

"Malcolm Baddock?"

"Here," said a bored-sounding boy, who sat in the back row.

He continued with the register, trying to remember all the new faces that previously, had been nameless to him, with the exception of a few Gryffindors.

"And, Kevin Whitby?"

"Here, Professor!" said an overenthusiastic Hufflepuff that Harry hoped wasn't always so chipper.  _It's just roll call, lord knows how excited he'd get in a real lesson_, Harry thought.

"All right, first off, you don't have to call me Professor.  Just 'Harry' will be fine.  Now the first thing—er—" He noticed a raised hand and checked the register for the name to be sure. "What, Orla?"

"Will you be teaching us how to fight Dementors?" the Ravenclaw asked excitedly as if she just might die if the answer was no.  

"Er, well, that's really a tad advanced for right now and it seems we have a bit to catch up on—" Several groans of disappointment made Harry stop and Orla Quirke waved her hand again in the air. 

"Yes, Orla?" She was beginning to remind Harry vaguely of Hermione for some reason.

"We've heard you've taught other students how to fight them and since the Ministry's been warning of possible Dementor attacks occurring at any time, now—anyplace—on _anyone"—_

"All right, okay, I see," said Harry to calm her down.  He looked at the class, which was full of eager faces at the mention of learning to fight off a Dementor.  Even the pair of Slytherin boys in the back who could barely manage to be bothered to answer during roll call, were having trouble trying to hide their interest now.  "Well, I can tell you that Professor Dumbledore, who has prepared all of your lesson plans for this class, has included a section on Dementors to begin just after the Christmas holidays.  Yes, Orla?"

She was kneeling on her seat now and almost looked like she wanted to be pacing around the classroom as she said, "But this is really important!  It should be sooner!"  

Harry saw several other students nod their agreement.  "Well, he also has arranged for the Patronus Charm to be covered, I believe in your Charms class—that might be a bit sooner."  They didn't seen happy with this and he could see Orla thinking hard for an argument and before she could raise her hand again, Harry said, "Look, there are several things that we absolutely need to cover before we could even think of moving on to Dementors.  First of which is doing an abbreviated version of the material you should have covered last year and then we can actually move on to the third year unit on dark creatures.  Yes, Dementors are dark creatures and I can see what I can do about moving it up."  

Harry pulled out a stack of course syllabi and handed them to Stewart Ackerley to pass around.  "This is the syllabus that Professor Dumbledore has devised for us.  As you can see, we have at least three weeks to try to summarize the material you missed out on last year." 

"Was Umbridge a Death Eater, Harry?" Dennis Creevey asked, not bothering to raise his hand.

Harry was caught off guard by, what he thought was, a ridiculous question.

"Don't be daft!" Orla said as she scowled at Dennis, who didn't look the least bit put down.  "There aren't women Death Eaters!"

"Now, that, Orla, I can definitely tell you is not true," Harry said certainly.  "There is in fact at least one woman who is a Death Eater and no, Dennis," he furrowed his brow and swallowed as he grittingly said the name, "_Umbridge_ was not a Death Eater.  Can we move on now?

"Who's the woman Death Eater?" someone asked.

Harry closed his eyes to remain calm at this continued line of questions.  "Do you all recall the Prophet articles last year about the escapees from Azkaban?" They all nodded slowly.  "Well, do your research, there was one listed in that group."  Harry shuffled through some parchments, looking for the ones that had a summary of second year Defense material to hand out.

"Is it true, Professor, that you're a better dueller than Snape?" asked the over-eager Hufflepuff.

Straining not to hex the next person who asked a dumb question, Harry said with exasperation, "Call me 'Harry' and I have no idea as I have never duelled with _Professor_ Snape."

"But you've duelled with You-Know-Who, haven't you?" said one of the Slytherin boys from the back row.

Harry could just tell the boy was trying to see how far he could push Harry to answer questions and Harry was getting fully irritated by now.  In fact, he thought that as long as the boy brought it up, he might as well use it against him. "Who?" Harry asked innocently.  The boy looked confused.  Harry repeated, "Who do you mean, exactly?"

The boy was now looking embarrassed.  Harry looked down to consult the register; Graham Pritchard was his name. "Er, You-Know-Who—_you know."_

Harry crossed his arms and looked at the boy, "No, I don't."  Silence.  Not even Orla Quirke was stirring to raise her hand.  Harry moved his eyes over the class and then landed them back on the red-faced Slytherin.  "If you can manage to actually say the name of who you mean, I'll answer your question.  In fact, I'll offer House points for anyone who can say the name."

Instantly upon the mentioning of House points, Orla Quirke's hand shot up and she said, "Vol-Voldemort!"  Several people flinched, a few quills dropped and one girl looked like she nearly fainted for a moment. 

Harry grinned and even laughed.  "Excellent, Orla.  Five points to Ravenclaw."

Dennis Creevey raised his hand now and Harry looked to him as he said, "I'll say it, Harry—Voldemort.  There—it's easy for me," he said turning to a Gryffindor girl at his side who had visibly winced, "I'm muggleborn."

As Harry said, "Five points to Gryffindor, Dennis," the other Slytherin in the back of the room spoke up.

"You best keep that quiet Creevey, or didn't you know that only makes you more of a target," he said and then sniggered along with Graham Pritchard.  

Harry checked the register again, giving himself time to not hex the smarmy boy with a pudding bowl haircut.  "Malcolm Baddock?" he confirmed, looking up and to the back of the room.  "Let me assure you, not being a muggleborn, is no assurance of safety."  It certainly had not helped his father nor had it helped Cedric Diggory or Sirius.  

"Now," said Harry, determined to steer the class back on track, "this class is about giving you an assurance that you are capable of defending yourselves, to some extent.  Here is the summary of your second year material," he handed the stack to Ackerley.  "Your assignment for Friday is to review chapters sixteen through twenty of your book and be prepared to go over a brief review in class."  Harry looked up to make sure they were all still there and listening, only to see Orla raise her hand yet again.

"Yes, Orla?" Harry said impatiently.

"It says here on the syllabus," Harry breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't another diversion of topic, "that we have an exam in three weeks?  It says it's the second year final exam?"

Harry flipped ahead in his lesson plan book.  "Yes, that is correct.  Did you not have an exam at the end of last year?"

"No, sir," she answered, "Professor Umbridge was not here to administer an exam on the day for which it was scheduled.  She left before she could hand it out and then she was in the hospital and then she—"

"All right," Harry cut her off, not wanting to think about…_her_ anymore than he had to.  "So I guess since you never had your exam last year, it only makes sense to take it after we've completed the review of that material.  It looks like Professor Dumbledore has noted here that it is to be open-book and that you may use any notes you like on the exam."  Harry looked up and said, "It looks like it's meant to just make sure you know all the material you are responsible for and then, trust me, you'll end up using these exams when you hit fifth year and revise for OWLs."  

Orla Quirke seemed energized by that thought and Harry was finally able to get into a groove of going over the summary material, just as the bell rang to end the class.  

"Don't forget to read those chapters!" he called out as they packed up their belongings.  Harry saw Dennis hurry up to the front. "Yes, Dennis?"  

"Can I have Colin's camera back, Harry?  He's going to be so jealous that I got five points in your class, wait until I tell him!"

Harry reluctantly, (he wished he knew of a good jinx for a camera) gave Dennis the camera back and then set to packing up his things before Snape had to leave his lurkdom of the dungeons and come back to the Defense classroom.  

"You did very well, for your first class," came Dumbledore's voice from the back of the room.  Harry looked up to see the headmaster seated in one of the seats, smiling away and twinkling up at Harry.  "I must admit, I did want to make sure you did not have any problems with your first class and so I sat in quietly."

"You—you were here the whole time?" Harry asked.  If this were true and he missed the brightly robed, silver-haired professor sitting in his class, then Moody would be very disappointed indeed in Harry's observational skills.  "Sitting in here?" Harry asked in high voice, still not believing he could have missed him.

Rising stiffly from the cramped desk, Dumbledore stretched for a moment and smiled again at Harry as he laid a finger aside his nose and said, "If you will recall, I have mentioned to you before that I do have ways to become invisible, when it is my wish."  Dumbledore turned and walked, humming, towards the door.

_Ah yes, he said that after he caught me at the Mirror of Erised…_  "The Mirror of Erised," Harry said, almost to himself, but Dumbledore did hear him and stopped to smile back at him.  "That's another Legilimencer, isn't it, sir?  It finds your desires?"  Harry asked, certain he was right.

"Very good, Harry.  You are right again.  Hmm, I may also pull that out from wherever it's at.  It would also make an excellent training tool for you."  With that, Dumbledore turned again to leave.

"Wait," Harry said, laughing now, "so you really mean you _would_ be able to see yourself in the mirror with a pair of woollen socks, then?"  He laughed again, "It's all how you control your mind!"  

Harry shook his head as he shouldered his bag and walked towards the twinkling Professor Dumbledore, who was nodding with amusement in the doorway at Harry's catching on.  "Wow, and all this time I just thought you were a bit mad."

~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *

I haven't said this for a bit, but for those of you who find FF.net's site to be unreliable or annoying, I do have a Yahoo group with all the files and such.  The yahoo group name is: HP_AoF or you may find the link on my ff.net bio page.  

Also, many thanks to my betas:  Aramas, Lauren, and Jan.  They help me not be stupid.  :-) 

Next up, I promise, you'll see some Krum…oh, and Quidditch try-outs, too!!  


	24. Chapter 27 The Woes of Ron

Chapter 27. The Woes of Ron

Ron had stumbled into the dormitory just past midnight; bleary eyed and mumbling about madder root, powdered asphodel and something about dragon urine.  He promptly threw himself on his bed, slid the curtains shut and Harry heard snores filtering out barely a few minutes later.  

Harry gave a sad smile toward his best friend's draped-off bed and closed his journal and laid down his quill.    _At least he didn't give up and walk out of detention_, Harry thought.  Carefully capping his inkwell and casting a spell to seal his journal, he sat up and laid aside his things on his bedside table, along with his glasses and closed his hangings.  He cast an Imperturbable Charm as well as enlarged his Proximity Charm to include just the area just outside his bed and snuggled down under the covers.  He had barely begun to lament being alone with no one to hold when a chorus of whispered lullabies whisked him into peaceful slumber.

The next day, Harry was walking out to quidditch pitch, Firebolt in hand and looking forward to spending his morning break whipping through the air, making sure he still knew how to fly and just spending some quality time with his broom.  Ron had been dragging in Charms that morning, still exhausted from his marathon detention with Snape and he'd been of half a mind to skive off Divination and go back to bed.   But when Harry told him about plans to go flying, Ron had brightened up and promised to meet him out on the pitch after his class.  

As Harry kicked off from the ground and took flight, he felt his stress, responsibilities, and expectations fade beneath him with every inch upward he climbed.  This was freedom—climbing, soaring, banking in the wind and diving in a free fall just to climb even higher again.   It was like spirit without form, flying was to Harry.  Thoughts were obsolete and Harry was free to feel the bliss of the unbearable lightness of being.  

A movement, down upon the ground, caught his seeker-trained eyes and he tried to make out the shape.  It was a person walking awkwardly and carrying a broom.  It was too early to be Ron already and Harry dove to get a better view.  

Rising up on a Firebolt of his own, was none other than Viktor Krum.  He paused and hovered in the air as Harry met up with him in the air.  

"You are a natural vith a broom," Krum said, nodding at Harry.  

Harry grinned broadly and said, "Thanks, it's been almost a year since I've flown."  They flew higher into the air and Harry asked, "So how do you like teaching?"

Krum was much more graceful in the air than he was on two feet and answered, "Is not bad.  I am very happy to be where I can help." 

"What do you mean?" Harry asked as he banked and rolled.  They were flying easy loops around the pitch and weaving in and out as they conversed.

"I mean, I know that war is near and I vant to be where I can help.  You know I haff been vritting to Her-my-nee and she has told of the building war."  

Harry had stopped and was hovering now, just staring open-mouthed at Viktor.  "But…but what about playing for Vratsa?  You just helped them to their third straight European Cup!!  Not that I'm sure you don't know, but why—_why, leave that to come here-- because there's likely to be war?"  Harry was beginning to think Viktor must be crazy to give that up.  If Harry had the choice between volunteering to head to a war that wasn't his own versus a brilliant career playing quidditch, he'd be polishing his broom as often as he was practicing curses.  _

"Vecause, it is the right thing to do," Viktor said, looking as serious as anyone Harry had ever seen hovering on a broom about a hundred feet off the ground.  "I vas here when it started—vemember—I vas cursed?"  Harry nodded.  He remembered that Crouch had controlled Viktor in the Third Task; casting the Imperius Curse on him in order to make Viktor, in turn, cast the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric.  

They began to fly a little forward and Viktor said, "It vas divvicult to try to forget that and go back to vorrying about a Golden Snitch.  There are move important things, yes?"

"Yeah," Harry said; he understood.  But solemnity without gravity was a waste of a fine Firebolt and Harry smiled as he looked back at Viktor and said, "I've never raced anyone on another Firebolt…"  

Viktor grinned back and shouted, "See if you can keep up!" as he leaned forward and sped away and upward with Harry grinning madly behind him.

Almost an hour later, the distant sound of voices on the ground brought both Harry and Viktor out of their gravity defying dance of aerial acrobatics.  Below, Madam Hooch was leading the first years across the field, presumably for their first flying lesson.  

Harry and Viktor exchanged a look and mutely agreed to fly off the pitch in the opposite direction, neither keen on landing in front of a bunch of ogling first years.  

They landed over by the lake and feeling invigorated, Harry remarked, "Brilliant, that was—I definitely needed that flight."  Grinning at Viktor, who was also looking windblown and refreshed, Harry said, "We should do that again sometime."

Viktor nodded and then shouldering his broom as they began a long walk upon the lakeside path up to the side of the castle, said, "You know, Severus has asked that I help vith his House team this year."

"What?" Harry said, turning to him.  "The Slytherins? Yeah, well, they'll need it to have a chance at winning.  Are you going to then?"

Viktor shook his head and said, "No, I said I vas not interested.  It vas not why I came here."  They walked a bit and Viktor then stated, "I do not like that man."

"Snape?" Harry asked.  When Viktor nodded with his jaw clenched, Harry snorted and said, "Join the club."

As they passed a long row of tall bushes, Viktor turned, paused and motioned for Harry to follow him behind the hedge.  After looking around to make sure no one was near and in a low urgent voice, Viktor said, "You should know, he is good friends with Karkaroff and you know what he vas, right?"

Harry nodded, surprised to hear this coming from Viktor.  Of course he knew that both had been Death Eaters, but Karkaroff had purportedly been too cowardly to return to Voldemort and fled when the Mark burned upon the Dark Lord's rebirth.  Snape, of course, was supposedly trustworthy as a spy for the Order as vouched for by Albus Dumbledore.  

Viktor nodded once at Harry's confirmation that he understood.  Then Viktor surprised him yet again with a second abrupt broach of topic as he asked, "Do you know who is vith Herm-my-nee now?"  Harry was dully blindsided by this question.  His startled look of confusion must have been apparent as Viktor explained; "I had been hoping to move here vould make her happy…to be closer.  She had said before, it vas too far avay to be together.  Now, I am here and when I talked vith her, she tells me she is vith another, yet it is secret.  I vas thinking that perhaps, you vould know who it is and tell me, if it serious, yes?"

Harry felt awful and conflicted all at once.  He felt a drop in his stomach at knowing that he was the one who was with Hermione.  He felt a small jump in his heart that Hermione had already told Viktor that she already had someone (him!) to see.  And lastly, Harry felt very sorry for Viktor, he looked genuinely heartbroken as he spoke of Hermione and it was apparent that he truly cared for her.  Recalling the time during the Triwizard Tournament when Viktor had confronted Harry about there being something between Hermione and him, as stated by the Daily Prophet, Harry felt he'd had enough of avoiding the truth and that he owed no less to Viktor.

"Yeah, yeah I know…" Viktor's eyes widened at this and he leaned forward as Harry stumbled on, "Er, you recall that time…well, you see…" Harry took a deep breath and was just summoning up the courage to say it as Viktor guessed the truth.

"It is you, then."  It was a statement, not a question Krum said as he squared his shoulders to stand up straight and tall.

"Yeah," Harry swallowed and then rushed out, "yeah it is.  It only started recently.  When you asked back during the Tournament, there was nothing…it only happened this summer…"

Krum's eyes were narrowed as he looked down his crooked nose at Harry.  "She has always talked about you a lot."  His shoulders seemed to go back to their rounded appearance and he seemed to slump in defeat as he added, "She has always seemed to care a lot about you."

Harry gave a sad half smile as he breathed out, "Yeah, I know."

"You care for her, too, yes?" Krum asked looking askance at Harry questioningly.

Harry had not doubt that Krum felt that if he couldn't be with Hermione, he was at least going to watch over her.  "Yeah, I do.  I always have since we became friends," Harry said as he spoke his thoughts as they occurred, "only now…it's…it's just…more."  

They were looking at each other; Harry was feeling incredibly relieved to have told Viktor the truth and was pleasantly surprised at how well he seemed to take the news.  It gave Harry hope that maybe, he, Hermione and Ginny just weren't giving Ron enough credit for being able to deal with Harry and Hermione together.  Then again, Viktor had seemed to expect it all along.

"Harry!" a voice called out from the path they had walked down.  "Harry?  Are you out here?"  It was Ron; Harry recognized his voice and realized he must be looking for him after finding no one on the pitch but Madam Hooch's first years.

"Vell, you are vanted, I think," Viktor said.  He leaned in close to Harry and pointed a finger at him and said quietly, "Just one thing, promise you will make sure she does not get hurt."

"Of course," said Harry reflexively.  "Of course I'll protect her…She's the last person in the world I want to see hurt, of course..." Satisfied, Viktor turned, stepped back onto the path and headed back to the castle.

Harry stepped out to see Ron stopped in the path, glaring with narrowed eyes at Viktor's retreating back.  "Hey, Ron."

Ron turned to blink at Harry.  "Were you talking with him?"

"Er, yeah.  Yeah I was."  As Harry watched Ron squint his eyes and crane his neck to make out the back of Viktor's head so he could continue scowling at it, he thought that maybe he should just tell Ron now.  Best mate to best mate.  He couldn't take it worse than Viktor, who moved to a new country to be nearer to Hermione, just had, could he?

"Yeah, what did _Vicky want, I wonder, eh?" Ron said.  Ron turned and looked at Harry shrewdly and then asked, "Was he asking about _Hermy-own_?"_

In a gathered fit of courage, Harry said, "Yeah he was.  And I told him…And I should tell you too now…I told him that Hermione and I are together…a couple, you know?"  He held his breath waiting for Ron's response.

Ron turned and squinted off towards the castle again and then asked, "So, he bought it?  Just like that?  He thinks you two are a couple?" Ron turned back to Harry with his head cocked to the side.

"Yes, a couple.  We've…since…since this summer."

Ron seemed incredibly calm, like when he was playing chess and contemplating his next move.  Unfortunately though, Harry thought, Ron's moves were usually calculated to end with a vicious defeat of Harry's pieces.  First, Ron's mouth twitched at the corner.  Then he glanced at the castle and then back to Harry.  Finally, he squinted at Harry and grinned.  "Brilliant," he said.  

Harry felt like he'd been dumped off into a bizarre world that had someone who certainly seemed to look like Ron, but, he was definitely not acting like Ron.   At all.

Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder and said it again, "Brilliant.  Abso-bloody-lutely brilliant, mate!"  Ron shook his head and couldn't stop grinning.  His stomach gave a growl and he said, "Let's go to lunch, get there early."  

The whole walk to the castle, Ron kept shaking his head and muttering to himself, "Brilliant, just brilliant," over and over again like some newly adopted Ron-mantra.  Meanwhile, Harry was following numbly behind, believing it to very likely that Ron was currently under some sort of Voldemort-plotted mind control intended to make Harry think he was indeed going crazy.

They reached the Great hall and entered to see Hermione already seated at one lone end of the table, reading a large book propped open in front of her.  Ron pulled Harry close and explained everything as he said, "Brilliant, mate, really—I wish I'd have thought of it sooner…but, mind you, I think you ought to keep it from Miss Priss over there," he jerked his head at Hermione.  "If she finds out you lied to Viktor to keep him away form her, she'll go spare."

Numbly and with much restraint to prevent himself from pounding his head against the table, Harry sat through lunch, barely touching his food.  Occasionally, Ron would mutter, "Brilliant," while Harry thought over and over, _I can't believe I finally suck it up and tell the great dolt and…oh hell!_

Just before the end of lunch, Ron said, "Is the DA going to meet soon, Harry?  A bunch of people asked me in Divination."

"Sure, sure, I suppose we could meet tonight.  Has everyone found some new members?"  Harry said, bringing himself out of his brooding.

Ron shrugged and said, "Dunno—oh!  Hey, I'll go ask Luna if she's found anyone yet."  With that, he was off, grabbing one last roll from the table and heading over towards the Ravenclaws.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione asked immediately as Ron left.

Harry flicked his eyes towards Ron's retreating form and said, "I told him."  At Hermione's dropping jaw and bulging eyes, he added, "Sort of, anyway.  He didn't believe me."

Hermione blinked, shook her head and swallowed and then asked, as if what Harry were saying was truly quite ridiculous, "Wait, you mean you told Ron.  About you and me.  You and me together—as a couple."  Harry nodded along that so far, the story was correct.  "And he didn't believe you?"  Harry nodded again.  Hermione just stared back at him.

Harry explained more in a hushed tone, "You see, I was flying at the pitch on my break and Viktor came out," Hermione seemed to pale at this but Harry quickly added, "Oh, don't worry, we talked too—Viktor and I and I told him about us.  He took it really well, I was surprised really, but anyway, then Ron came out and Viktor left and well, what with how well it went with Viktor, I thought I might as well just clear the air with Ron, too.  But, you see, he saw Viktor leave after he came out and he just thought I meant I made it up to keep Viktor away from you…I think."  Harry frowned and thought about it again; really, it made his head hurt to recall how close he'd been to having Ron know the truth.  "I suppose it doesn't help that he thought I'm with Ginny, really.  Errgh, why did we ever get ourselves into this, remind me?" He finished as he dropped his head onto his folded arms in front on him.

Hermione never got a word out before Ron came back, grinning smugly still and slid in beside Harry, saying, "Well, Luna says that they had to draw wands in Ravenclaw last night to decide who could become new members.  So, they're all set to meet.  Who are you two asking to join?"

Hermione was looking shrewdly at Ron and Harry was struck realizing that he should find two new members to bring as well.  

"Oh, let me guess," Ron said, smirking slightly at Hermione, "you want to invite the House-elves.  They might be willing, I reckon, they could learn to fend of your attempts to smother them with clothes."

Hermione's eyes grew beady and she stood up abruptly, knocking over her plate and sending silverware clattering to the floor. "Ronald Weasley, _you_ may like to remain disillusioned and unenlightened but that doesn't mean the rest of the world does!" she said before yanking her bag off the floor, scooping up her book and whirling away and out of the Great Hall.

Ron just muttered as she left, "What does Charms have to do with anything?  Mental, that one…"

Snape began straight away in Defense Against the Dark Arts by calling off names and barking out an order for everyone to rearrange into these new 'skill-based' groups.  

Utterly baffled, completely bewildered, and increasingly annoyed is exactly how Harry felt as his classmates reassembled into their groups.   He had assumed, as they had discussed on their way to class, that he, Hermione and Ron as well as several other DA members would all be likely to be grouped together at the same skill level.  However, the groups were nothing of the sort.

Harry's group had two Slytherin girls who had always blended into the background; one of which, was the girl Harry had helped the previous class and who was also in his Potions group.  Harry well recalled they also were two of the lesser (if not least) skilled members of his class.  Also, and Harry was eternally grateful that he had _someone_ he knew and who wasn't completely inept, Susan Bones was in his group.  

Susan smiled at Harry as she joined the group and said, "I think Snape may have just pulled our names out of a hat to make up these groups."

Harry just scowled as he looked around.  There was Malfoy—along with Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, that scrawny Nott boy and Millicent Bulstrode.  _A collection of Death Eater spawn if I ever saw one, Harry thought._

Then he saw Hermione with a group of all girls, including Lavender and Pavarti, who was looking around with an equally disgruntled look.  Ron seemed to be with a group of all boys that included Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, and Anthony Goldstein as well as others.  

"Now," said Snape, causing everyone to turn and expect an explanation, "these are your groups.  They will not change.  In next week's class, I will pair up one group against another and you will duel, as groups, against each other."  He sneered and let that sink in.  "You have the rest of this class period to practice together.  Ah, yes, and one more thing," Snape looked at Hermione for a moment before he added; "you earn your grade based upon the overall skill of your group.  You will need to work together.  Begin."

 By the end of the class period, Harry and Susan had only just helped Tracy Davis and Daphne Greengrass to properly master the Disarming Charm.  

As the bell rang, Snape called out, "Two feet of parchment on the proper use and casting of defensive shields for next class!"

"We should all get together sometime before next class, don't you think? To practice?" Susan suggested before they began to replace the desks back into the center of the room and pack up.

Daphne looked like she didn't quite trust Susan and Harry saw that Tracey wasn't looking too eager, either.  

"Do you want to?" he asked the two girls.  "We can get together tonight after dinner?"  Susan gave him an odd look and he said, "What?"

She mumbled to him out of the side of her mouth, "I thought I we have a DA meeting tonight."  Harry had just activated the charmed galleon before DADA class to alert the members to meet that night.

Harry nodded at her with a smile as if he found her amusing and said, "Yeah, I know, where better to practice?"

"What are you two talking about?" Daphne asked.  Harry had noticed that she was immediately distrustful of anyone and everything and constantly questioned why on every suggestion he and Susan tried to give her.

"A group," Harry said.  "We meet and practice practical defense spells.  We're meeting tonight and I'd like to invite you both to come.  Will you?"

Daphne's eyes narrowed and she looked Harry up and down; it made him feel rather naked just standing there.  She asked slowly, "And why would we want to do that, Gryffindor?"

She'd been calling Harry this all class, but although he was sure she intended it as an insult, he didn't mind it at all.  "Well, because you're both desperately behind and I don't see how else you're going to catch up before next week if we don't practice some more."

Daphne was about to take offense at this when Tracey spoke up quietly, "Why haven't I heard of this club?"

"Exactly, Trace—tell us why, Gryffindor?" Daphne said looking smugly between Harry and her friend.

Harry had to fight from rolling his eyes and just leaving them be as he said, "Because it's a secret. Now, do you want to learn how to do more than just disarm someone?"

"I've got a few good hexes I know of," she challenged.  

Harry looked skeptical.  "And are those going to be enough when we're matched off against that group of your Housemates over there?" he asked as he jerked his head at Malfoy's group that was currently trying to remove a Crusting Boil Hex off of Crabbe's (or was it Goyle's?) face.  

Daphne looked begrudgingly defeated and Tracey immediately said, "We're in."  Daphne looked at her as if she was crazy but Tracey nudged her and said, "What?  Like you wouldn't want to surprise Parkinson with a new trick?"  She added in an undertone that Harry could just make out, "Or what about being able to hex the you-know-whats off of you-know-who if you need to?"  

Daphne seemed to reconsider and as other students were packing up now and leaving, Susan hurriedly said, "So you'll come then, yes?  You'll like it—everyone does."

"Where and when?" Tracey asked.

Harry saw Malfoy craning his neck and watching them conversing and he quietly said, "Er, I'll meet you outside the library at seven o'clock tonight."  

Daphne looked like Harry was mad and said, "And that won't look odd?  Us meeting you and then going off to a secret meeting in the library?" 

"Were not meeting in the library—I'll have to take you there—just, listen, I won't be visible, I'll find you.  Just be there and I'll find you."  Harry saw that Malfoy was looking far too interested in their group and he wanted to hurry this up.  

"Alright," Tracey said, seeming just as eager to break up and leave the class.  Daphne still looked like she thought Harry was a bit mad but left with Tracey.

"Well tonight should be interesting," Susan said as she and Harry gathered their things.  

Just then, Malfoy had sauntered over and said, "Why, Potty got himself a date tonight?  Even a Hufflepuff like you could do better than _him."  Malfoy shot a condescending sneer at Susan._

Shouldering her bag and looking down her nose coolly at Malfoy, Susan just said, "Why, Draco, are you _jealous…of me?" as she turned and left the room._

Malfoy glared killing curses at the back of her head and then, seething, turned back to Harry.  "_You…will…pay—"_

"Save it, Malfoy.  I haven't time for the likes of you," Harry said still holding his wand loosely by his side and noticing Malfoy was clutching his wand with white knuckles.  He saw Crabbe and Goyle lumbering up behind Malfoy, with Nott trailing behind and Pansy Parkinson watching smugly from afar.

"Hey, Draco, weren't you asking for someone to try out your new spell on?" Pansy said gleefully.

"Hey, Malfoy," Harry heard Ron shout from across the room, "how'd you like that Bat Bogey Hex last year?  Want another?"

Harry turned and saw Ron stalking towards him with Seamus at his side. "Yeah, sod off, Malfoy or do you need Harry to tell you he'd rather snog the squid than you again?"

Anthony Goldstein and Ernie Macmillan, who had also been in Ron and Seamus's group, were also striding over to stand behind Harry.  

Malfoy's eyes were so narrow they were barely visible and Harry thought Malfoy's wand might crack from how tight he seemed to be gripping it.  "Like I would—_ever_—stoop so _low_ as someone—" Malfoy shivered and then got a malicious look as Hermione also sauntered over to stand beside Harry.  His steel grey eyes gleamed viciously as he taunted, "If I ever wanted to get a one off, why, _that's what a Mudblood is for—right before they—"_

"POTTER!" Snape bellowed, causing them all to jump at the rapid approach of an irate Snape.  "What is the meaning of this, Potter?" Snape asked in a deadly calm whisper.  "Trying to start another little fight outside of class?"

"Actually, we're in class, _Professor," Harry said snidely._

"Silence!" Snape roared and then glared at everyone still in the classroom.  "What are you all still doing here?  Get out!  Unless you've nothing to do and want to spend the rest of the day with me in detention…" they all hastily moved away.  "Except, you, Potter…I'll have a word with you…" Snape said as Harry felt an anger surge inside.  

_Greasy bastard knows exactly who started this… _As they were left alone, Harry let his face of apathetic nonchalance slid into unchecked loathing.  "You wanted a _word, sir?" Harry said, not keeping his distaste for the bastard from his voice._

"Watch your cheek, Potter, or I may be forced to exact punishment from you…" Snape said coolly as he drew his wand and levelled it at Harry.

A shriek broke the tense silence in the Defense classroom and Harry and Snape both turned towards the open door.  Another shriek and they were both out in the hallway where Pansy Parkinson was on her knees and clutching Malfoy so tightly she was almost dragging him to the ground.  

"_Ron!"_ Hermione admonished as she still held her wand in front of her, defensively pointed at the other Slytherins still in the hall.

"F-five points from Gryffindor, Ron—I'm sorry—it, it's the rules!" Neville said warily, also holding his wand out but trained upon Ron.

"What is—" Snape yelled and then stopped as Pansy, with tears in her eyes, wide with horror, turned around to reveal a great ugly grey horn sprouting from her tongue.  Snape looked disgusted at the sight (Harry felt sick) and waved her aside and said, "Mr. Malfoy, take Miss Parkinson to the hospital wing—the rest of you—" he gestured at the other three Slytherins, "clear off!  _And you_…" he turned now to Ron, who had been smugly watching Pansy whimper, "_detention!!  I'm sure Mr. Filch will be pleased to have your assistance tomorrow night—I'm sure you had nothing _better_ planned for a Friday evening!"  With that, Snape strode off in a flurry of billowing black robes, leaving Ron gaping behind, Neville looking sheepish and Hermione looking furious.  Harry was just content to have gotten out of 'having a word' with Snape.  _

In the library that afternoon, Ron wasn't talking to anyone.  Apparently, as Neville had told Harry, Pansy had made a comment about Ron having lost his prefect badge because he couldn't afford the silver polish to keep it properly cleaned.  

Hermione was huffing still about the Defense groups, "At least I have Lavender and Parvati—I mean _at least they were in the DA, but the rest!  __Ugh—I can't _believe_ it!  He stuck me with the entire set of girls in the Cosmetic Charms Club!!  Mandy Brocklehurst cares more about not breaking a nail than she does about nailing a jinx!  And did you see Malfoy's group?  All Slytherins…it's the only group with only members from a single House!" _

Harry looked dubious and griped, "Did you notice how my group had only four people?  Every other group has _at least_ six, if not seven!  And we're supposed to be matched up group to group…"

"And did you see the other group?  The one with only muggleborns?" Hermione asked, shaking her head.  "Those groups have _nothing_ to do with _skill!  I mean look—we each have at least one hopeless—" Hermione stopped, a look of understanding washing over her features.  "_Ooh_!"_

Harry looked to her expectantly for the explanation.  "Yeah, if you've figured out the method to that git's madness, let me in."

"Harry, don't you see?" she said earnestly.  "We—all of us who were in the DA and who are of a relatively high skill level—we've all been split apart and spread out!  As have all those who are relatively inept!  We're supposed to help bring the others up to par!"

Ron looked up at this and said, "But isn't that what Snape is for?  He is, after all, the teacher?  And what about the group of junior Death Eaters, huh?  Are they helping to bring up anyone 'to par'?  No—"

"No, Ron," Hermione cut in excitedly, "they're meant to be an example!"  Harry hadn't seen Hermione get this excited since, well…anyway, not about something class related, in a while.  "Look, we've got, as you called them, the junior Death Eaters together and then we've got the rest of the Slytherins spread out amongst the other groups. There's my group with all the girls who…hmm, well, the ones who would normally not take a class like Defense serious at all—every one of them loves Divination, for example.  But, see, Snape made it so we all earn our scores as a group—so with me, albeit, a bit on the keen side when it comes to grades," Harry and Ron exchanged smirks at this, "Oh, shut up, you two!  See—I'm inclined to motivate them to do well or, well, or else I guess I could threaten them with a nice rash across their face—that'd do the trick.  Don't you see?"

Harry frowned.  It still seemed overly…complex.  "So, then tell me why I get a group of only four people?"

Hermione grinned at Harry and rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Harry—think about it!  Because you're _you_!  Actually, it's brilliant of Snape!" Harry immediately thought that was definitely not warranted to be said. "See, he makes a show of giving you the most disadvantaged group—looks good to anyone who's watching him but really, he's giving you the best opportunity to train your skills realistically.  How often would a group of Death Eaters wait until you have an equal group to face off against each other?  No—they want a position of advantage.  

"And you know what else?  I bet Malfoy and his group will want to show off all they know—it's like a mini Death Eater fight just for practice!  I'm sure they have plenty of curses and spells that we've never happened upon—and I'm sure they won't be able to wait to use them!"

Harry was beginning to see how this might be interesting.  "But what about the group of all muggleborns?" he asked.

Hermione thought on it and worried her lip.  "I'm not sure on that…maybe he thinks they'll be at a disadvantage because they won't have anyone with a Wizarding background?  Maybe it'll be clear later."  

At dinner, Harry asked Ron, "So, who are you bringing tonight to the meeting?"

"Kirke and Sloper," Ron said with his mouth full of Shepard's pie.

"Nice, Ron," Ginny said disgustedly.   She turned back to Harry and said, "I'm bringing two girls from my year, Harry."  She lowered her voice and then told him, "Colin's been practically selling tickets and then interviewing them as if it's a contest for who he takes—I had half a mind to take points from him for being mental, but, ah, well, that's Colin."

Harry just smiled at this and knew he'd have to endure it eventually. He checked his watch and saw it was half an hour until they had to meet.  He bid everyone later until the DA meeting, saying he had to get the room ready and left.  He headed back to Gryffindor Tower, retrieved his invisibility cloak and the Marauders Map and then went to the Room of Requirement.  

He arrived in the room; it looked as it typically did for their lessons.  Hermione, he saw, had also arrived early and smiled as soon as he saw her.

"Hey, I was just setting up the loyalty spells," she said smiling and letting Harry give her a quick kiss on the cheek that turned into a slightly longer snog.  "Harry," she said as she pulled away, "I have to get this done before anyone arrives."

Reluctantly, he let her go.  "Is that the one you place on the door—that tests their intent when they enter?"

She nodded as she pulled out a scroll of her notes.  "Yes, and I think the room may even help me to erect the spell, but I need to concentrate."

Harry, seeing that the room was ready, left Hermione to it and, slipping on his cloak with the map tucked into his pocket, he headed down to the library.  

He leaned against the wall outside the library, invisible beneath his cloak as he waited for the two Slytherin girls.  He was also wondering whom Hermione had asked to join the group; he would wager it was also Slytherins if he knew how her mind worked.  

He heard two people come out of the library and turned to see Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom walk out talking earnestly.  Thinking they were alone, they stopped outside the door; just a few feet from Harry.  Neville began to talk as he blushed a brilliant red, "So if I take two of your Ravenclaws to the meeting tonight, then, well, do you think I could also take you out?"

Luna just looked as serious as ever as she nodded and said; "Most people think I am already out there."

"No, no," Neville stammered and Harry began to feel increasingly uncomfortable for having to witness this awkward moment.  "I mean, out, on a—a date.  Like, well, I don't know when the next Hogsmeade weekend will be, but maybe we could go?  Or maybe we could go watch one of the quidditch games together…or, I—well, if you don't want to—but I mean—"

"You fancy me, Neville Longbottom," Luna said, stating it as a fact, not a question. 

Neville blushed even more and stammered, "Well…well--er, I guess--I mean…no, maybe…well—"

Oblivious to his inability to formulate a sentence, Luna leaned forward and placed a kiss right upon Neville's stuttering lips.  It shut him up completely.  In fact, he fainted.  

With a slight cock of her head, Luna looked down at him, muttered, "How sweet," and pointed her wand at him and said, "_Ennervate!"  _

Neville woke up and shook his head and said, "Whoa—what, what happened?"

Luna just helped him up and said, "Nothing, dear.  Let's go to our meeting!" as she laced her arm through his and skipped off, dragging Neville along.

Harry had to shake his head, feeling like he must have just observed the most bizarre courting ritual known to wizardkind.  

"Finally!  They left!" said a voice.

"Where do you think he is?" said another.  

Harry turned to see his two new members come out cautiously from behind a statue.  He waited until they wandered a bit in front of him and then spoke, "I'm here."

"Ah!" Tracey shrieked at the sound of a disembodied voice.  Daphne had promptly pulled her wand and slapped a hand over Tracey's mouth.  

"Who's there?" she said.

Invisible Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Me—Harry, now head up to the seventh floor.  I'll follow you and give you directions."  He pulled the map out and quietly activated it, checking to make sure they wouldn't be followed or seen.

"How do I know it's you, Gryffindor?" Daphne asked, suspicious.

Exasperated and trying to hurry as they were all supposed to meet now at seven, Harry said, "Because who else told you to meet out here and said that they'd be invisible?  Now, let's go—we're going to be late.  Seventh floor—walk."  

Harry followed them as they slowly walked up several flights of staircases.  They each kept stopping and looking back, trying to see him.  Once, Daphne stopped so abruptly, he ran right into her.  Finally, they reached the seventh floor and he said, "Now, down the hall and then to the left.  Stop in front of the picture of Barnabas the Barmy."  There was no door visible for entrance so Harry instructed them: "Now, face the opposite wall, pace before it three times and think that you need entrance to the room so you may learn defense."

"What are you playing at, Gryffindor?" Daphne said as if she was sure the voice speaking to her was mad.

"Just do it—it's how you get in," Harry urged them.  It was already ten past seven.

Tracey did it first and they both gasped as the door appeared into view.  

"Go on," Harry said, urging them in and following behind.  

The room was packed full and people were talking loudly.  No one noticed the two new people who had just entered, except for Hermione who had been standing by the doorway.  Harry stepped up to her and before she could say anything to the two girls, he put his hands on her waist and whispered, "It's me," as she yelped.

Realizing immediately what was holding her hips, Hermione swatted at the invisible Harry, making him meep in protest.  Daphne and Tracey looked at her like she was a bit off.  

"Hide me," Harry whispered as he slipped behind her and then whipped off his cloak quickly and stuffed it away into his bag.  "All right," he said and Hermione turned around and smacked his now visible arm again for good measure. 

"Don't do that!" she said crossly and then turned and smiled at the two girls.  "I take it Harry brought you?" she asked them and they nodded warily.  "Excellent.  Just sign up here," she said as she thrust a parchment on a clipboard at them with a self-inking quill.  "Now, let me inform you, that your signature on this list constitutes a magically binding contract whereas you promise to maintain the secrecy of this group and swear no ill intents towards Harry nor the club as a whole."

Daphne and Tracey looked at each other warily.  "Oh, it's just so no one tries to come in here to get Harry into trouble or to spy upon him.  Go on," Hermione said.

As they signed, Tracey asked, "Are, er, are we the only ones from our House?"

"No," Hermione said shaking her head, "Blaise is over there," and she pointed to Blaise Zabini hiding off in the corner, arms crossed and trying to stare back at everyone else giving him furtive looks.

"I take it you brought him?"  Hermione nodded.  "Whom else did you bring?"

Hermione just looked disappointedly towards the door and said, "He didn't show—oh well, he said he might not be able to make it."

"Why's it so crowded in here?" Harry asked as Hermione put away her parchment.

Ron answered though, "Harry!! There you are—it's too crowded in here—what are we going to do?"

"Should we go somewhere else?" someone asked as several other people complained about it being too cramped to do any spells.

"Didn't anyone try to enlarge the room?" Harry asked. They shrugged and Harry just looked up at the ceiling and shouted, "We need more space, please!"  Obligingly, the room expanded and kept expanding until Harry looked around and said, "That's enough!"  He looked around pointedly at Ron and Hermione, silently mocking them for not simply asking for more room.

"Listen up!" Harry called as he strode to the center of the room and everyone quieted down.  "All right—here's the plan:  I reckon we can have all of our new members up to speed in three weeks time if we meet twice a week, two hours at a time."  Some people groaned and Harry recognized them as original members who likely wanted to meet more often.  

"If you want to meet more often on your own, you know where to go, or, if you have others in your House who want to learn, set up your own lessons in your Common Rooms or such.  But—seeing as how we should have at least one person to teach every two here right now, we should be able to move quickly."

"What do we get to do once we've all caught up?" asked Geoffrey Hooper, the whiny boy who lost out on the Keeper spot to Ron last year.

"Last year, we left off as everyone was learning the Patronus Charm.  Not many were too successful—we only had a short time to work on it.  We'll pick up there and spend some time on that.  I'm even working on a way to give you practice in the presence of a Dementor."  There were a few outcries at this and Harry explained, "It will only be a Boggart in the form of a Dementor but it will mimic the effects very closely.  You'll find it's vastly more difficult to actually conjure your Patronus in its presence."  

Seeing several faces he didn't recognize, Harry next said, "Er, let's go around quickly and introduce who it is we all brought.  Susan, do you want to start?" he motioned for Susan Bones at one edge of the crowd to begin.

"Eloise Midgeon—a seventh year and Megan Jones—a sixth year, both Hufflepuffs."

They continued around the room as everyone introduced whom they had brought.  Harry was not feeling too confident that he could remember everyone's name and had to strain to see some of the people through the crowd.  

When it finally got around to Hermione and she introduced Blaise Zabini as her lone recruit, both Lavender and Parvati snickered loudly and looked at Hermione knowingly.  Harry wondered what it was he didn't know, that they obviously did.  He saw Ron shoot Hermione a dark look and then it was Harry's turn.

He motioned for them to step forward and he said, "This is Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis—sixth years and both from Slytherin House."  He let his words ring for a moment, waiting to see if anyone challenged the last three new members; the only members representing Slytherin.  Harry heard Zacharias Smith mutter to someone that the girls were in Harry's group from Defense class.  He realized most people probably thought that was why he'd brought them here; to make sure he got a good grade in Defense.  

Either way, he shrugged it off and clapped his hands as he walked over to the side of the room where there was a blackboard.  He pulled out a parchment roll that he had prepared and pointing his wand at the board while holding a finger to the parchment, he transcribed the lesson plan onto the board.  

"I've written up a list of the spells we've to cover.  They're in the order in which we should work on them.  Now, let's get two lines here with all our new members paired up and the old members coaching them.  Coaches—begin with a demonstration of each new spell."  

He set up Tracey and Daphne working beside Susan's new recruits and as they got started in on warming up with the Disarming Charm and he moved them on to the Impediment Jinx.  He then asked Susan to watch over them and moved about the room to observe everyone's progress.

It was apparent from Dennis Creevey's fellow third years that Harry was going to have go over basic spell casting techniques in their Defense class the following day.  He stopped to help guide them into the proper stance, facing their bodies sideways to present the narrowest target and explained the importance of precise aim.  He warned them, before he moved on, that they would be expected to help demonstrate in their next class.

When he got to Neville and Luna, who were working their groups side by side, he saw that Luna had found four Ravenclaw first years and Neville was busy trying to explain how to properly point their wands.  

When he looked questioningly at Luna, she said, "They're my first years.  What do you think, Harry?  Aren't they cute?"  She sounded more like she was talking about a brood of puffskeins than actual children.  

"Er, that's nice Luna," Harry said.  "But have they even had their first practical lesson in _anything_ yet?"

Luna blinked and explained in a singsong voice, "Har-ry, that's just it—they just want to learn magic!"  

Harry sighed and Neville looked back at him.  "It's okay, Harry--we'll help them along."

Harry saw them failing to cast anything as they tried to shout, "_Expelliarmus!_"  

"Neville," Harry said, "I don't know," he raised his hands to stop the first years and waved the two on the other side over for a moment.

"Do we have to leave?" one asked looking extremely small, young and nervous.  

Harry shook his head, "No, but I'm not sure how well you'll be able to do this spell.  It's the Disarming Charm and if you haven't properly gained an appreciation for just how potent a wand is as a weapon, then I'm not sure you'll be properly be able to disarm each other yet.  Look, let's start you with something a little more basic and that you'll feel motivated to learn."   

He led them over to a corner and asked the room for a few boxes with lids and locks.  To Luna and Neville, he said, "Start them with '_Alohamora' and '_Colloportus'_.  They're simple spells and even a first year can see the value in learning those two spells."  _

The last hour flew by quickly as he moved Tracey and Daphne on to Stunning and Harry soon called a halt to the activity.  "Excellent work, everyone!  We'll plan on meeting on Tuesdays and Thursdays at this same time here, unless you hear different from whoever brought you.  I'll let everyone know only if there's a change in plans."  

Friday morning had Harry, Dean and Neville being the only ones waking up.  Neither Seamus nor Ron had signed up for Healing and they both grumbled as their other dorm mates made noise getting up and getting dressed.  

"I've been reading," Hermione said as she paged through a text at the Gryffindor table, "Centaurs have reputedly vast skills in the Healing Arts.  But there appears to be not documented evidence or testimonials to this.  I wonder why that is…"

Together, Hermione, Harry, Dean, Neville, Lavender Parvati and Katie Bell all crossed the Entry Hall to classroom eleven.  Since this was the first year Hogwarts had offered Healing, seventh years and sixth years that elected for the course were all grouped together.  

When they arrived into the earthy-floored, forest-like room, it was a very small group that appeared to have elected for the course.  Included, however, as the only other seventh years besides Katie, were Marietta Edgecombe and Cho Chang.  Both of who sent icy looks towards Harry and his friends as they entered.  

Harry paid Cho and Marietta little attention and walked past them into the classroom where Firenze stood calmly.  

"Harry Potter," he said holding out his hand in welcome and swishing his long golden palomino tail.

"Hello, Firenze," Harry said as he shook his hand.  

Firenze surveyed Harry unblinkingly through astonishingly blue eyes that betrayed no expression as he said, "And with you, come the unrested souls."  He then nodded towards the others and turned in a circle to end up at the front of the class.  The students all sat upon the spongy, moss-covered earth floor and gazed up as Firenze began the class.

"You are here to learn of the Art of Healing.  As an Art, the Gift of Healing is truly unlearned, if at all, it is simply gifted.  It is doubtful any of you here would possess the Gift of Healing."

"Excuse me?" Marietta raised her hand and waved it, causing Firenze to study her briefly before answering.

"Yes?" he said with little interest.

"What is the point, um, er, Mr. Centaur—" Dean snickered at her, "er—what's the point of this class if it's something we can't learn?"

Firenze stared at her unblinkingly, making her shift uncomfortably.  Harry noted she had some faint pink scars across her face that vaguely seemed to spell out something.

"You—human—may learn about something even though you do not possess the skill or ability to perform the act." He swished his tail again and walked about in a small circle before he went on.  

"The Healer you know in your world is but a learned man whose academic studies allow the application of Healing magic to be used.  This differs from a true Healer in that one with the Gift does not learn, because they already know.  I, as one who knows, may teach you, who may learn."

Harry thought this was rather vague logic to have to follow first class in the morning and looked over as Hermione tentatively raised her hand and said, "Firenze, I have a question."  She went on as Firenze looked at her.  "Has the knowledge of Healing spells, methods, potions, herbs and such all come from Centaurs or other true Healers?"

Firenze nodded once, swished his tail and said, "No."  He circled again before explaining, "Learned Healers may learn through experience and trial.  True Healers—just know.  I have agreed to share with you what I know."

With a wave of his hand, the earthy floor was transformed into a field of Earth Gallwort and he began to cite the healing ability of the various parts of the herb.  From there, the field changed to Arnica and then to Comfrey and lastly Solidago.  

They spent three hours lying in the changing fields, making sketches of the herbs and taking notes as Firenze lectured.   Laying on his stomach and frowning at his poor sketch of a Comfrey leaf, Harry looked over at Dean's sketch and was amazed to see the lifelike rendition there.  Dean looked up and smiled before looking back down at this work.  As he blew softly at the parchment, his sketched flower swayed gently as if in a breeze.  Harry's sketch looked more like a mangled bowtruckle.

As the class ended, and they left for lunch, Hermione could barely contain her excitement, "Do you realize what a vast wealth of knowledge Firenze is?"

"Er, no?" Harry said.  The class to him had seemed like a cross between Herbology and a Potions lecture where they talked about the properties and uses of the herbs.  

"Harry!" Hermione as her eyes widened in disbelief.  "He's just telling us all that it would otherwise take years of research to know!  In all the books I've read, I've never—"

"Met one you didn't like?" Ron said mockingly as he joined them as they sat in the Great Hall for lunch.   Harry just grinned and Hermione couldn't help a small smile before sticking out her tongue at Ron.  "Oi!  Don't blame me for telling the truth!" 

After lunch the trio headed outside and down to Hagrid's for Care of Magical Creatures class.  They arrived early and were unpleasantly shocked when Hagrid opened the door of his cabin and Fang leapt out and attempted to tackle them all to the ground.

"Arrrgh—_pffhmt!"_ Ron could be heard as he hit the dirt.

Harry had shoved Hermione out of the way as soon as he'd seen the bounding black ball of fur and he ended up pushing her to the ground and landing on top of her.  "Er, hi," he said grinning down at her.  

"Eww!!  Fang—stop licking me!" Ron shouted disgustedly.  

Hagrid could be heard chuckling as Harry stood up and lent Hermione a hand up.  "Guess he wants ter help yeh finish off yer lunch, there Ron.  Mus' o' left some nosh on yer gob."

"He always likes to keep some extra on his chin," Harry said as he laughed at Fang avidly licking Ron's face and preventing him from getting up.  "You never know when you'll want a snack, eh, Ron?" Hermione had her face pulled into a grimace as she watched the unsanitary display.

"Oi, shut it, Harry!  Argh!" Ron said as he finally rolled away and got out from under Fang.  "Blearch!" he said, wiping his face with the sleeve of his robe.

"So," Hagrid said, as he led them out past his pumpkin patch that was sporting bright yellow blossoms.  "Yeh all the only Gryffindors tha' signed up for class.  It'll be a small group o' yeh."

"What are we studying first, Hagrid?" Hermione asked as she shot a wary look askance at Harry.

"Oh—here comes the res' o' them now," Hagrid said as he pointed to the small group approaching.  

Harry could easily make out Crabbe and Goyle.  He looked for Malfoy to be between them but did not see the ferret-face.  He hadn't had any classes thus far with neither Crabbe nor Goyle and figured it was because they simply had not made the OWL marks for those classes.  Of course, it was unfortunately obvious, that Malfoy had.  Either way, Care of Magical Creatures was a class more of guts and brawn than brains and he figured it must have been an easy choice for Crabbe and Goyle to take the class for a NEWT.  

Also walking to class were Millicent Bulstrode, a Ravenclaw boy and Zacharias Smith who looked extremely put out at the apparent composition of the class as he trailed along behind the rest.

"Come along now, all of yeh," Hagrid said as he went into the paddock and went up to a large box in the center.  "Now, the firs' half o' the year, we'll be studyin' some more intrestin' creatures—some o' the more advanced ones I got.  Then, after yer holidays, yeh'll be setting to work on a creature o' yer own choosin'.

"Now," he said as he lifted the front off the box, "today, these here are Streelers."

They spent the afternoon waiting for the brilliant kaleidoscopic color changes of the four Streelers as the giant snails slimmed their way around the paddock.  As they passed, they left behind a venomous trail that caused all the weeds and grasses to shrivel and burn, leaving behind a smoking trail of grey, glinting ash.  

"That was a very good lesson, Hagrid," Hermione said, pleased as the class ended and Harry and Ron helped round the Streelers back up and into their box.

Hagrid beamed and invited them in for tea.

"So, yeh'll have all done passed yer OWLs—how's it feel?" Hagrid asked as he set a kettle to boil and pulled out four mugs.  

"Brilliant now that they're over," Ron said with a look of relief as if he'd just finished his exams only hours ago. 

Hermione admonished, "Yes, but now NEWTs will be even more rigorous and we've a right bit of work before us for the next two years."

"Oh, Hermione," Ron said, waving her worry away, "we only just started school.  Give it a rest.  Blimey, we haven't even had a party to celebrate the end of OWLs!"

"Yes they did, Ron," Harry said as he recalled Dean and Seamus planning to go in on Firewhiskey at the end of last term.  "We just missed it."  _Yeah, because I was busying dragging everyone off to a trap_, Harry thought for not the first or last time since it had happened.

There was a short silence where they all felt uncomfortable and then Hagrid said, "So, 'Arry, I've got yer birthday present here.  Yeh want ter open it?"

"Sure," Harry said, happy for the change of subject, yet also with a slight bit of dread. Hagrid's ideas of what made a great present were sometimes suspect.  

Hermione poured tea from the still-whistling kettle as Hagrid dug into several different pockets in his coat.  He frowned as he dug through more pockets and more pockets.  "Ah," he said as he chuckled embarrassedly, "yeh wouldn't happen ter want ter summon it, would yeh?"

Harry smiled nonplussed and pulled out his wand and said, "_Accio_ present."  A tiny little silver-green ball flew out of one of Hagrid's pockets and Harry reached out and caught it. "What is it?" he asked as he could feel the tiny ball seem to pulse and shrink in his grip. 

"Moke-bag—got yer real present inside.  The bag is made of Mokeskin and yeh'll have ter train it ter like yeh.  Shrinks up when strangers 'pproach.  Go on and stroke it a bit—get it ter relax so you can get what's inside," Hagrid said, looking right pleased with himself.

Hermione seemed to be just as anxious about just what was in it as Harry and asked in a falsely bright voice, "Er, so Hagrid, is it an animal?"

"Oh no, 'Ermione.  Yeh jus' wait and see.  Go on, Harry."  

Ron gave Harry a look that implied, "Better you than me," and Harry opened the palm of his hand and, with a finger, poked the little silver-green ball.  He'd read about Mokeskin as being prized for use a bag for valuables because it was impossible to find by anyone other than the owner.  He'd just never thought how the owner had to try to get on such good terms with the Mokeskin, is all.

"Try ter talk ter it, 'Arry," Hagrid suggested, watching closely.

Harry felt very stupid now as he said things like, "Hello there," and "I won't hurt you," while Ron and Hermione tried not to laugh.

Finally the ball contracted, and seeming to let out a sigh, expanded to reveal itself as a bag. Harry poked the bag open and carefully turned it over to dump out a flat shinny black stone.  

Hermione gasped, "_A bezoar!"  She moved closer and kneeled on the floor before Harry and looked at it with amazement._

Harry almost laughed and Ron did laugh. "So that's a bezoar!" Ron said, amused.

 "Yup," Hagrid said as he beamed at Harry.  "It was the payment I got for tradin' Beaky to a good home."  Hagrid sniffed and said, "Figured you migh' find a use—though I'll hope not a need."

Harry smiled and said, "Thanks, it's—wow, you sure?  It's worth a lot…"

"Course I'm sure.  Besides, it's fine gift for the new Lead—"

"Hagrid," Hermione cut in quickly, "how's Grawp?"

This sufficiently derailed any talk of Harry's induction into the Order and new role as Lead Light in front of Ron.  Hagrid thanked Harry and Hermione for visiting Grawp while he'd been gone.  Apparently, to Hermione's horror, Grawp had mentioned 'Hermy' several times since then.  Hagrid told them he'd have to try to have them down for tea one afternoon when Grawp was around, although, with students back and Hagrid not being allowed into the forest much, it would be difficult to arrange.  Harry and Hermione were neither too disappointed to hear this.  

Harry noted the time on his watch and exclaimed, "Oh, I almost forgot, I've got class in nearly a minute!"  He stood up and at Ron and Hermione's confused looks, said, "Third years Defense class.  Sorry, Hagrid—and thanks for the present—really.  I've got to run!"  Hagrid waved him off and he left them behind, sprinting towards the castle.

Harry arrived nearly a minute after the bell had rung, panting, into class.  Gasping for breath and walking to his desk, Harry realized it was much better to be late to a class he was teaching than one that he was attending; there was no one to take off points for being tardy!  

"Okay," he said after catching his breath, "did you all read the assigned chapters?"  The class nodded affirmative and Harry said, "Excellent.  We'll go over that next week instead.  Now today, as we will do every other Friday from hence forth, we will have practical self-defense lessons.  Put your books away; all you will need is your wand."

The students could not have shown more excitement if Honeydukes had just put out a bin of free sweets and they rushed to clear off their desks.

"Everyone stand up and to the back of the classroom," Harry instructed and then, with a wave of his wand to each side, he sent half the desks flying to one side of the room and the other half, to the opposite side.  "Now, let's have you form two lines that face each other.  There you go."  Harry walked down between the two lines and made sure everyone was evenly spaced to avoid as much bodily damage as possible.  

"Now, we will begin with basic techniques for defensive spellwork.  There are four main factors that impact your spellcasting: power, focus, speed and aim.  For the most part, power, you'll gain with confidence, practice and focus.   The focus, speed and aim, you can begin to learn now.  We're going to start with the Disarming Charm.  Dennis?  Would you step up and help me demonstrate?"

Dennis Creevey nearly tripped over himself in excitement as he stepped forward from his line and faced Harry in the center of the room.  Harry pointed his wand at Dennis and continued his lecture, "I'm about to disarm Dennis.  His wand—or any other weapon or something I see him as possessing as a weapon—will be dislodged from his possession and shall recoil towards the caster.  Watch closely…" He flicked and pointed he wand in one swift movement and cried, "_Expelliarmus!" as Dennis's wand flew out of his grip to be caught by Harry.  _

The students murmured excitement and Dennis was grinning maniacally as Harry tossed him back his wand. "Now, you will practice this spell on the person across from you.  Remember two things: focus your mind on disarming your opponent and focus your aim on your opponent.   This won't work if you do not understand the concept completely or if your aim misses your target. Both sides will cast at the same time and this will encourage you to increase your speed of casting.  After all, only one of you may be successful."  Harry looked around for a whistle to blow to signal them to start and stop and, realizing that he wasn't in the Room of Requirement, frowned, and then just conjured a whistle silently.  "On my whistle, you will cast your spells.  Ready?"

On the whistle, several cries of _"Expelliarmus!" could be heard and a few wands did fly into the air here and there.  But there was also a "doh!" as one boy seemed to be punched in the gut, a scream as one person was hit directly by two different stray spells, in addition to the first and knocked backwards, and the sound of one belated __"Expelliarmus!"_

"Ok," Harry said, reminding himself that the DA didn't start off much better last year.  "Not too bad.  Who's got their opponent's wand?" he asked and only three people (Dennis and his two Gryffindor recruits) held up wands.  "The rest of you, you were either too slow," he pointed at the three people who'd lost their wands, "or too unfocused," he pointed at the one who'd felt a blow rather than been disarmed, "or had bad aim.  Most of you had bad aim.  It's different, being in here and not aiming at a button on the top of your desk or a cauldron right in front of your face, so let's focus on aim.  Let's try it again."

Harry was pleased with the class's progress as the bell rang and he was even more pleased as he heard Orla Quirke remark to a friend as she left class, "Finally, a class that will be useful.  I've always wondered just how helpful it will be to turn a beetle into a button."

At dinner in the Great Hall, Ron piped up sarcastically after polishing off a third helping of treacle tart, "Well, I get to spend the rest of the night with _Filch_!"  Harry had forgotten about Ron's detention for putting a Horntongue Hex on Pansy Parkinson yesterday.  "So, I guess I should be off for the next—oh, five or six hours if Snape had anything to say about it.  I'll wake you up early, mate, to get ready for tryouts tomorrow if I don't see you before then?"  

Harry nodded, still chewing his food, as Ron begrudgingly got up, shot a scathing glare at Snape at the head table and sighed dramatically again.

"Well, if you wouldn't have hexed another student in the hallway…" Hermione said loftily.  Ron just rolled his eyes at her and waved to Harry.

Actually, as Harry thought about it, it really was perfect timing as Friday evenings were also the time the Order was set to have its first meeting at Hogwarts this evening.  Having Ron off at detention would save Harry and Hermione from having to make up an excuse as to where they were going.  It even occurred to Harry that Snape had timed the detention on purpose.  But then, Harry decided, nah, that Snape would never do anything for anyone else's mutual benefit, most especially his.

As if reading his mind, Hermione leaned over and whispered, "We have a meeting tonight.  Do you know where it is being held?"  

Harry could only shake his head, but just then, McGonagall came up to them and said, "Potter, Miss Granger, if you are done here, would you follow me please?"

Harry finished off the last of pumpkin juice and then followed McGonagall past the head table and off to the side into the chamber in which he had meet with Dumbledore the night of the Welcome Feast.  There were now several stately looking wing-backed chairs scattered about the room and a handsome fire blazed at one end of the room.  Presently, Snape had Dumbledore cornered across the room and was speaking animatedly.  Harry strained to hear but couldn't make out a word as Mr. Weasley greeted them.

"Harry!  Hermione!! Good to see you both.  How are your classes this year?" he asked as he clapped them both on the shoulders and grinned at them.  He glanced quickly at the door and said, "Now, I must tell you both, Molly has been all a tither thinking Ron and Ginny would demand to be part of the Order and would badger you both for details if they were to find out about you two in here."

"Don't worry Mr. Weasley." Hermione said, she shot an imperious look at Harry as she said, "We won't be telling them a thing."

Harry frowned at this and straightened his glasses before he said, "Now, I'm not so sure we can't tell them a _thing, Hermione."  At Mr. Weasley's faltering smile, Harry said, "Oh we won't tell them about us already being in the Order, per se, but we will certainly have to do something to explain some of the things we know and to keep them preoccupied and with a feeling that they are doing something." _

He went on despite Hermione's deep frown and show of crossing her arms, "You see, that was the most frustrating thing for me—well, all of us here, last year; that we didn't feel like we were doing anything.  Actually, that's why we started the DA group and I think I've come up with an idea to explain why Hermione and I will disappear on Friday evenings and to keep them and others feeling like they are making a tangible effort in the fight against Voldemort."  At Mr. Weasley's flinching at the name, Harry frowned.

Hermione, in a tightly controlled voice, asked, "And just what, Harry Potter, do you have in mind?"

"Yeah, Harry Potter, what? Huh?  More secrets?" Tonks had jumped in behind Hermione and was grinning unrepentantly at Harry's surprise.

"Well," he said as noticed Kingsley and Moody had also arrived, "It's not that elaborate, it's just they already know that Professor Dumbledore has given us his blessing to have the DA meet this year.  I'd like to tell them running the DA group is the mission that the Order has asked of us as students."

"How does that explain where we are on every Friday night?" Hermione said, trying to see a flaw.

Harry grinned and said, "Training.  Ron and Ginny have both seen my schedule and know that I have private training sessions with Dumbledore throughout the week but they also know that Hermione and I have had all kinds of training from others during the summer.  We'll just say that we're getting training form some of the Order crowd so we can keep up on new things to teach in the DA class.  Believe me, if Ron thinks it's work that we're doing, he won't mind not being included.  And really, we are here with Order members, so it's not that far from the truth."

Mr. Weasley nodded and seemed to think it might work.  "Yes, well, Molly should be okay with that.  Though, mind you, I may not tell her unless I have to."

Hermione just seemed to bite her lip and gave the barest of smiles to Harry as if to imply his idea wasn't total dragon dung.  

"So, isn't Mrs. Weasley coming tonight?" Harry asked Mr. Weasley as Tonks dragged Hermione into a corner and began gossiping with a few shrieks and sobs of laughter. 

"Oh, no.  It's much too far for her to apparate comfortably.  She doesn't apparate too often and finds it tiring.  Even I don't enjoy it too much over a long distance, but I was able to take the main Ministry Floo into Hogsmead and then walk up."

"I believe," Dumbledore called out to the room and waved to close the door just as Lupin ducked in the room, "that we might now be well to begin."

Everyone moved to settle in a chair and Harry, after giving Remus a quick wave, took one beside Hermione who had already sat down and had out parchment and her quill for notes.  

"Now," Dumbledore said as he remained standing, "I believe we have a few new items for business this evening.   First, is a bit of news that everyone who works at the Ministry has encountered; Cornelius seems to have put forth a memorandum this week encouraging any and all departments to begin researching a way to reveal whether a person is or has been under the Imperius Curse."  

Harry saw Mr. Weasley, Kingsley and Tonks all nod at this. He also saw Snape blink twice and then turn, as if feeling Harry's stare, and scowl. Harry obliged by returning a scowl of his own.   

Dumbledore went on, "Obviously, this would indeed be a very beneficial tool for our fight.  It would make most difficult for any servants of the Lord Voldemort to claim innocence on behalf of the curse.  However, I have also become aware of some other disturbing news that may impact this.

"Severus, in his contacts, has discerned that a ceremonial ritual of Marking new servants is planned soon by Lord Voldemort.  His lack of current servants and thwarted efforts to locate them," Dumbledore seemed to twinkle at this, "has left him but little choice than to seek new servants."

There were some murmurs at this and Hermione had even stopped writing for a moment, looking up with concern at this.

"Now, as to who these new servants will be or whether they have already been determined is not known to us.  It is my solemn desire to prevent any and all students of Hogwarts from receiving the Mark while they remain here."  Dumbledore caught Harry's gaze at these words before moving on.  "There are two things of which it would be advantageous for us to have knowledge:  who these new servants will be and when the ritual is to be performed.  

"Severus tells us that, much as the Order's traditional covenants, ceremonial rituals are held upon the traditional sabbats.  This helps us in that it narrows down the possible dates, however, it may also constrain our own desires to increase our number.

"So, anyone who hears any possible whispers of when or who may be involved with this, drop a parchment in the cauldron straight away.  This also leads me to caution those at the Ministry to be wary of anyone working on this new effort to counter the use of the Imperius Curse.  As much as it might benefit us to have this information, it might also benefit Lord Voldemort more.  Any questions?"

Kingsley raised a finger and spoke, "Are we to proceed then with our own recruiting?  If so, when can we expect this?"

"Ah, excellent question, Kingsley.  Halloween was and is my intended date for inviting new members to pledge and join the Order of the Phoenix.  Although, I may also tell you all now, that if need be, we can perform this rite at any date.  It is only the alternative inductions, such as Misters Fred and George Weasley and Harry here endured, that can only be held on these magical holiday sabbats.  I apologize for misleading any of you in the past but I can tell you now, I had anticipated the time was nigh for the choosing of my successor and _that, did indeed need to be done on a sabbat.  But, again, to answer your question, yes I still wish it to remain on Halloween as I see no reason to rush."_

Kingsley and Tonks then proceeded to profile some of the Aurors with whom they worked who they thought might be excellent candidates for becoming members.  Harry, though, was pondering what a new legion of servants might mean for Voldemort.  The current stability and calm of the Wizarding world had seemed so fragile since Voldemort had returned.  The feeling that a storm like none ever before seen was brewing inevitably just couldn't stop nagging at Harry.  

Dumbledore then moved them on to a few topics of old business and asked Bill, whom Harry had not even noticed sitting in a corner, "William, have you heard any word from Ragnok yet as to our working together?"

Bill sat up from his slouching position and answered, "Er no, Professor, however, I can tell you some other bit of news.  The Minister has plans to meet with a contingent of Gringotts Board of Governing Goblins next week.  He's to meet personally and as far as I can tell, without the aid of anyone from the Goblin Liaison Office.  I've asked around a bit but have not found out what it's all about.  Thought you ought to know."

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully as he stroked his long beard.  "Hmm, yes, thank you very much William.  Is there any other news to cover tonight?"

"How are your new Defense instructors working out?" Tonks called out playfully as she kicked the back of Harry's chair on purpose.

Harry saw Snape scowl at her from his corner chair and then Dumbledore answered in a cheery voice, "I've not had any complaints."

"What about that bloke you got teaching Potions now, isn't he from Durmstrang?" Moody asked gruffly, looking more to Harry and Hermione for the answer.

"Oh yeah," said Tonks leaning forward excitedly, "_Viktor Krum_, eh?  I heard—can't believe it—none of us can really.  I mean why he'd ever give up such a career to become a teacher—_oww_!"

Remus had apparently stomped on her foot at this as McGonagall and Snape were both giving her distasteful looks, although, Dumbledore seemed quite amused as he spoke, "Yes, Mister Krum's contacting me was quite fortuitous in that he was a suitable candidate to take the position left vacant as Severus moved to teach Defense and he was also most interested in doing what he could to aid our efforts against Voldemort.  Perhaps, most of you are not aware, but Viktor, after witnessing the events of the Triwizard Tournament's Third Task and learning of the role his former headmaster had played in the first reign of Voldemort, he became a very outspoken opponent of Dark Magic in his home country of Bulgaria and was a very active part of the international push to recognize the return of Lord Voldemort."

Harry then saw Tonk's head peer around his chair and she asked, "You see him fly up close yet, huh?"

Harry just grinned and said, "Yeah, we flew together yesterday morning.  He's got a Firebolt, too."

The meeting adjourned and Tonks continued to pester Harry about flying with Krum as others left.  Finally, Remus dragged her away and bid Harry and Hermione later and left.  

Hermione seemed quiet on the walk back to Gryffindor Tower and Harry didn't really want to go directly back to their bustling Common Room just yet.  As it was Friday, curfew was later and he wanted to take advantage of this.

"Is there anything wrong?" he asked her.

She looked up as if she had forgot he was there and then said distractedly, "Oh, no.  I'm fine." 

Harry had to smile at this and say, "Now that's my line, and I only use it when it's a lie.  So tell me, what's wrong?"  She just looked away and continued to walk.  "Are you mad at me?" he asked wondering if she were upset about telling Mr. Weasley about his plan to make Ron and Ginny feel a valuable to the efforts of the Order. 

"No," she said, almost dejectedly.  

Without further ado, Harry turned them around and headed for the nearest door outside and said, "Come on, let's go for a walk.  It's beautiful night." He led her out a side door of the castle and she gave little protest.  He led her down a moonlit path towards the lake and spoke again, "You sure you're not mad at me?"

She shook her head, 'Oh no, Harry.  I'm not mad," as she stopped at gazed up at him.  She turned then and ducked around him and sat beside a large boulder, facing the lake.  Harry sat down on the ground beside her and she said, "You went flying with Viktor?"

"Oh, yeah," he said, not sure why this would upset her.  

"And you talked with him about me?  He told you why he came here and all and he knows about us?" she asked looking for confirmation.  

"Yeah, I told you that, though.  Was that wrong?  I'm sorry, I just didn't—"

"No," she said as she silenced him with a finger to his lips as she smiled up at him.  "Oh, Harry, you just amaze me sometimes.  I can't believe you're not the least bit jealous about it."

"Oh," Harry said as he moved her hand from his lips and held it.  "Well, I guess… I mean, well, I shouldn't be, right?  I mean, you so, er, well, want to be with me, right?"  He looked down and then at her sideways, watching the moonlight glint off her wild hair.

"Oh, of course, I want to be with you!" she said as she squeezed his hand between both of hers.  He couldn't help a grin and then moved in to capture her mouth.  He barely got started kissing her when she pulled away and looked down, dejected again.  "I'm a lousy girlfriend."

"What?  Why?" Harry asked, completely nonplussed.  What was all this talk?  Couldn't she tell he just wanted to snog her senseless and then some?

She pulled her hand away and picked at some grass as she grumbled, "Well, I give lousy birthday gifts."

"What on earth are you talking about, Hermione?" Harry asked as he leaned over and tried to look at her face.

She pulled her knees up and hugged them as she muttered, "The Weasleys and the others got you those brilliant boots and then Hagrid gives you a bezoar—_a bezoar_!  And I get you a lousy book.  Typical me.  _A book_."

Harry couldn't help a smirk.  "You got me a journal," he corrected her with amusement as he reached to tug a strand of her hair.  

"Still a book," she muttered.

"I use it every night," Harry said softly as he rested a hand on her knee.  She looked up doubtfully as he said this.  "I do!  You know I do.  It—well, it's good for me."  This was probably true, he realized.  The journal held things that Harry would never really tell anyone but he was learning it felt cathartic somehow to write those things down.  "I never would have bought it myself."

"Oh, see!" Hermione said, looking even more stricken.

"No! I mean, well, I wouldn't but you know me well enough to know what I need when I don't.  Oh, just come here," he pulled her to him and just held her.  

After a good long while, she looked up and smiled at him, "You still amaze me, Harry Potter."  He grinned and kissed her.  This time, she kissed him back.  Harry began to wonder as he kissed her, if the moonlight would look just as beautiful glinting off her bare skin as it did her hair when a sudden movement caught his eye.

They turned, startled, to see Mrs. Norris sitting upon the boulder beside them, watching with her lamp-like eyes.  

"We should get out of here," Hermione said with conviction and stood up.  

Harry groaned but stood up as well.  Wherever Mrs. Norris was, Filch was sure to not be far behind.  They hurried up the castle checking the time to make sure they were still before curfew.  Without incident, they made it back to Gryffindor Tower and Harry was soon pulled aside by Katie Bell to discuss the next day's tryouts.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

Saturday dawned a cool and dreary morning as Harry stumbled out of bed early and saw that even Ron was not yet awake.  Seeing it was still quite early, Harry went to shower and get dressed for quidditch.  He then took the Gryffindor playbook and settled in the Common room before the fire. 

"I bleed Gryffindor red," he muttered to reveal the book's contents.  The book was filled with notes and plays designed and used by the past captains of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for the past three hundred years.  As he flipped through the book, Harry thought he might add some protective preservation charms to the book to help with some of the older pages.  He found that several plays had specific notes about typical Slytherin team defenses that seemed to have been in use for years.  He guessed it made sense that the other Houses might have anthologies of plays, too.

"Aren't you up early," a voice said from behind.  Harry felt Hermione pass through his Perimeter Charm and he tilted his head back against the chair to look up at her.  

"Tryouts today.  Why are you—" He stuttered to a stop as he noticed she had on only her dressing gown, damp hair and a towel slung over her shoulder.  If he didn't know any better, he'd think she had just had a shower. 

"Shower," she said.  He was completely, fully awake now.  "Just getting back from the Prefect's bath."

Thoughts of the white marble Prefect's bath, with a swimming pool-sized tub and bubbles of every sort danced in his head.  And at the center of this fantasy, was none other than—

"Harry, are you all right?  You look a little, er, like Luna Lovegood there for a moment.  Everything okay?" Hermione startled Harry back to the reality of the Common Room.  

"Er, sure, yeah, fine.  So, er, where exactly is the Prefect's bath for the girls?" he asked just he help fill in the details of his fantasy.

Hermione grinned slyly, "Nice try, Potter."  Seeing that they were still alone, she leaned over and kissed him.  

Harry pulled her closer and then pulled her around the chair and on to his lap.  He held her and kissed her again, hungrily now, and then groaned as he said, "It's been _days_, Hermione."  He tried a little persuasive rhetoric by tracing his tongue across the spot beneath her ear on her neck. And running a hand up along her thigh.    

"Mmm, yeah…I mean no, Harry," Hermione said as she pulled away and blinked her eyes rapidly around the room.  "We can't do this here," she said hurriedly but still did not get off of his lap.

"How about the Prefect's bath then?" Harry said with more hope than he could barely contain.  

"What?" Hermione looked at him and then got up, tightening her dressing gown around her. "No, Harry, no way!  You know who comes into the Prefect's bath?  Prefects.  No way—just, we, we'll think of something."  She bit her lower lip and seemed just as desperate to get alone time as he was.   "Later," she said before giving him one last peck on the lips and then left up the girl's staircase, leaving Harry to bemoan the fact that he now had to spend the next three hours sitting on a broom.  

The grass on the pitch was still wet from an overnight rain and Harry waited impatiently for the last of the candidates to straggle down from the castle.  "Hurry up, you lot!" he called to them and they trotted along faster.

"All right," he said as the came with hearing distance, "We're going to fill out a reserve team as well this year.  Now, I'll take the candidates for Beaters and Seeker and Chasers and Keepers go with Katie."

He and Katie had planned the tryouts the previous night as she was a veteran Chaser and had gone through tryouts before, unlike Harry, and he figured they could get through most of the candidates faster if they split it up. 

Harry could see Ron as he walked off with Katie, looking nervous despite Harry telling him his trying out again was just a formality.   

Only six people followed Harry.  "Which of you here, signed up for Seeker?" he asked and only one person raised their hand; a young boy, Euan, if Harry remembered the sign up sheet correctly.  "Euan, right?"  The boy nodded and Harry pulled out the snitch from his pocket and tossed it up in the air, making it dart off and away.  "Go get it," is all he said to the wide-eyed second year who seemed stunned at the blunt command.  Eventually, he quit gaping and realized Harry was serious and mounted his broom and flew off in search of the Snitch.  

Harry looked at the remaining five players.  Kirke and Sloper, the team's Beaters from last year were there and so were two girls from Ginny's year and one fourth year boy.  "Okay, now, we'll rotate through and let you each have a chance to work with each other.  Kirke and Towler, you start.  Sloper, you release the Bludgers. Then the rest, you'll rotate in and out every five minutes.  Your goal is to try to hit me with a Bludger."  Harry jumped onto his Firebolt and flew up and off.  He looked over and saw Euan Abercrombie circling around for the Snitch and searching desperately.  Harry instinctively began searching for the glint of gold, too but then was reminded of his job as a black ball whizzed past him, signalling that Sloper had released the Bludgers.  

After about an hour of dodging Bludgers and spotting the Snitch several times, Harry dove and captured the Snitch and then landed, calling down the last pair of Beaters.  It was apparent to him that they were all fair Beaters.  Kirke and Sloper had both improved since last year; Kirke most definitely.  He instructed them to take a break.  

He then took flight again towards the still circling second year.  "Hey!" he called.  "I want you to race me from the stands to the goal posts! Come on!" he waved for the boy to follow him over towards the stands.  There were a few Gryffindors seated and watching the tryouts who waved as they neared.  Euan looked up in awe at Harry as he arrived and Harry said, "You'll start.  I want you to aim to go through the highest goal hoop over there.  I'll try to overcome you after you start as I have the faster broom.  Just fly your fastest."  Euan's Nimbus 2000, a fine broom as Harry well remembered, was no match though for the Firebolt.  Harry outstripped him more than halfway to the goal.  But as Harry turned around after passing through the goal, he saw Euan still racing at full speed towards the hoop and straining to finish the race.  

Euan pulled up, looking like he knew he had just lost and should leave the pitch.  Harry said, "Excellent."  He grinned at the younger boy's confusion and said, "You never gave up.  That's what counts.  You'll be the reserve Seeker."  The boy grinned and almost fell off his broom before doing a loop of celebration.  "Go over and rest," Harry said, pointing to the others on the ground.  

Harry then flew over towards Katie and her group to watch.  As Harry approached, Katie flew over to him and said, "Well, I think we got the Chasers squared away—Ginny is great.  She's been practicing the plays all summer and it shows.  And Angelina's sister, Abigail, a third year, is sure to be as good as Angelina—maybe even better."

"And Keeper?" Harry asked, not sure if he wanted to know.  

Katie grimaced slightly, "Well, Stimpson is really making Ron work for the spot.  He started out all right but then when they switched off, she had a real run-- blocking everything and some excellent saves and then after they switched again, Ron started to go all…_Ron_ again."

"But isn't she a seventh year?" Harry asked eyeing the older girl who was still playing Keeper.  

"Yeah," Katie said shaking her head.  "I'm not real sure why she chose to try out only now.  I think she just never got on with Alicia and Angelina.  Anyway, mind you, she is good, but she would only be here for a year."

"Is there anyone else good?" Harry asked, really meaning to inquire if Ron was at least the next best choice.

Katie shook her head.  "Nah, there's a third year kid, but she's so short her reach just isn't enough to get to the Quaffle.  She's built more like a Seeker."

"Are you saying I'm short?" Harry said indignantly.

Katie just laughed, "Well, yeah, _you were.  But I guess since you're still fast you can still be Seeker." _

Harry just shook his head and they watched the next round of Chasers go against Ron.  Ron looked down nervously as he flew to the goals and saw Katie and Harry watching and despite Harry's friendly wave, Ron looked like he was about to wretch.  

After watching for twenty minutes, Harry felt like he wanted to wretch.  Ron had seemed even worse than he had played against Slytherin last year.  Katie leaned in and said, "You know, I think you should play with me and Ginny as Chaser against Stimpson." Harry nodded and vowed to make sure that he gave his all against whoever this girl was.

But as he, Ginny and Katie played and scored again and again, he felt immensely better.  She was missing easy saves and getting perpetually more flustered.  Harry saw that Ron was looking on with renewed interest.  After Stimpson's fifth consecutive miss, Katie called out, "Ron!  You go again!"

Harry had to tell himself that Ron would curse him if he thought Harry had gone easy on him.  Harry focused on just allowing Katie and Ginny work together and worked to set them up for shots.  Ron, after watching Stimpson falter and play horrendously for a while now had a new vigour and was quickly regaining the form that had helped Gryffindor win the Quidditch Cup last year.  

After Ron made his third consecutive save, Harry called a stop and motioned to Katie to fly over.  "I say Ron looks good to me now.  How about you?"  Katie shrugged and nodded.  "All right!  To the ground!" he called out to everyone.  They all flew over to the other players trying out and Harry spoke, "I think we've seen enough.  I'll draw up the list of all who made the team and post it in the Common Room.  Go on in and good job."  

Katie stayed out with Harry and helped him put away the balls and drag the trunk back into Madame Hooch's office.  Unexpectedly, Katie said, "I have to confess, I knew Stimpson would screw up if you played—she's fancied you since our fifth year."

Harry was silently shocked at this and stammered out, "Oh, well, good then…that we find that out now, before she spends a whole game staring at me instead of catching the Quaffle."  Where the heck did these girls get off thinking he was someone to fancy?  He didn't even know the girl's first name much less could she know anything about him other than he had a scar on his head.   ]

Katie was watching him and laughed when he looked up and blushed.  "I knew you wanted Ron on the team and I figured he'd would regain his confidence if he saw her mess up."

"Well," Harry said, trying to steer the topic back to quidditch, "so you think Ron is a good choice then?  I mean I know he wants it and he can do it.  Plus I don't want to replace--"

Katie held up her hands to stop him and said, "You don't need to justify yourself to me, Harry.  I think you'll make the right choice."  Harry noted she didn't say "best choice".  "So who'd you pick for Beaters?" Katie asked as they walked back to the castle.  

"Kirke is loads better this year, he's on the team and Zoe Sorensen is quick as a pixie with that bat.  I think Sloper is still good enough for the reserve team.  As to the other reserve Beater, I say it's a toss up between 'em.  I'm leaning towards Archie MacDonald--he's good friends with Sloper"

"Yeah, that sounds good," Katie said and smiled at Harry in a way that made him just slightly warm.  "Say, Harry…" she said and then turned away, not finishing her sentence.  

"What?" Harry asked.

"Oh, nothing," she said as she shook her head, letting her hair out of its ponytail.  Harry somehow doubted it was nothing and was about to push her on it when McGonagall met them at the entrance to the castle.

"So?" she said impatiently.  Katie just smiled and waved at Harry as she left him alone with McGonagall.  Harry followed Professor McGonagall back to her office, telling her about how the tryouts went.  He excitedly told her about their Chasers who seemed to be an excellent set of quick players.  He also told her about Kirke's improvement and Zoe as Beaters. 

"And the Keeper?" she asked.

"Well, Ron's definitely the man for the job," Harry said with conviction.  

McGonagall arched an eyebrow and said, "I was watching from my office, you know."

~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~

Yeah, I know, cliffie.  :-P  

But the next part is sooo much fun and really, it deserves to not be stuck at the end of this monstrous chapter.  (I keep surpassing the size of each previous chapter--this is a sickness!!)  

Anyway, next chapter: who makes the team, a party in Gryffindor Tower, when good gossip goes bad and the pros and cons of the room of Requirement--and more! 

Ah yes, and you know, a few people have said a thing or two about where's the plot or where's the "mystery" of the fic…well, you know, I find that kind of flattering.  Why?  Because I have been thinking that my clues were too obvious, but, obviously, they are not.  They are planted (quite a few even in this chapter) and what good would a Dark Lord be if you knew everything he was planning and doing?  I'm trying to stay true to JKR style in keeping the mystery until the end, where, "BAM!" at the end, it all hits you.  I am also plotting out the seventh year fic at this same time and there are also clues and hints and leadings to the end of the whole great thing.  It's there; I'm working like hell to put it all together and then working even harder to write more fluff around it so you don't notice the clues until it's too late. Ooops!  Guess I shouldn't have said that….


	25. Chapter 28 Gryffindors Drink to Pants

Author's note: Things of a sexual nature abound in this chapter.  If you wish to preserve your innocence (ignorance??), best to avoid me (and my writings) at all costs.  Vicarious loss of morality, virginity, and innocence may all be side effects of reading this chapter and general association with me.  J

Chapter 28. Gryffindors Drink to Pants

"And the Keeper?" she asked.

"Well, Ron's definitely the man for the job," Harry said with conviction.  

McGonagall arched an eyebrow and said, "I was watching from my office, you know."

~

~

~

Harry slumped back in the chair in front of her desk and looked down.  "Stimpson is a seventh year and she'll be gone next year--she froze when I got near her.  I think Ron will--he _can do fine."_

"Will or can, Potter?  They are two very different things," she said watching him closely.   

Harry sighed deeply.  "Listen," he said, "I just think that, well, I mean…" She was boring her eyes into him over her square-rimmed glasses and drumming her fingers on her desk.  "There're more important things than quidditch," he said abruptly.  

McGonagall considered him for a moment and then said, "Well, that's a very mature view to take on it, but I entrusted you with the welfare of the team, not your friendships."

Harry's mouth fell open.  He snapped it shut and then said, "Well, I don't believe this decision endangers the welfare of the team, Professor."  It was true, he thought, because really it seemed a toss up between Ron and Stimpson; both had their weaknesses and strengths.  But when the decision had to be made, Harry was definitely rooting for Ron to be the best.  

"You don't believe…?" she said coolly, watching him closely.  

Why is she acting like this?  Her questioning of his choice was starting to irk him.  "Professor, I don't understand why you're second-guessing my choice.  You say you entrusted the team's welfare to me--so let me make the choice.  Yes, I admit it, I am biased towards Ron because he is my friend and I know how much this means to him.  But he does merit consideration for making the team equal to that of Stimpson.  Perhaps I am also biased because I _plan_ on being here next year as well and would like to not have to refill the Keeper position, yet again."  He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and added, "Either way, Stimpson will be on the reserve team and if Ron fails to perform in a match, then we do have a substitute to switch in--_if_--it comes to that.  But--I doubt it will."  He stared her down, as if to dare her to challenge the decision again.

She then did something unexpected; she smiled.  "Why don't you stay for tea, Potter.  I have a mountain essays you can help me grade."  

McGonagall had summoned lunch to her office and set before Harry a stack of parchments and a well of red ink.  "Second year essays, you should be able to handle it?" she said as Harry looked completely taken aback.  "Oh, and Potter?  I was only testing your decision-making skills before; I think Weasley will make a fine Keeper. And," she smiled again at Harry, "you are quite right to recognize that friendship is ever more valuable than a game--especially in days like these."

He had wondered as he read through and marked the second year's essays on switching spells just why, exactly he was doing this.  He thought at first, that it was payback due to McGonagall for the time she spent helping him over the summer.  Then, reading over the essays and the various ways of thinking demonstrated by the writings, he began to believe it was probably just another way to get him to study the theory of Transfiguration, which he still thought was rather boring.  

Finally after several hours, he finished the last essay and left them graded and stacked neatly on McGonagall's desk.  He checked the time and saw that it was already dinner. He wasn't really that hungry but he knew he had to get the team list made up before he returned to the Common Room.  Thinking for a moment, he realized he actually had an office to use and headed down the hall towards the Defense office.  

The office was very bare.  There was still the one wall lined with books but the rest was very sparse.   An empty tank sat in the corner that might have held some creature such as a Grindylow.  The Dark Detectors were long gone, probably waiting around the Room of Requirement for when he would call them to use.  The ceramic plates with blue-eyed kittens were thankfully far, far away and there wasn't a single portrait of Gilderoy Lockhart in sight.  

But there was a painting. A painting of a lion sleeping peacefully before a crackling fire in what looked similar to the Gryffindor Common Room now hung on the wall beside the desk.  Harry smiled at the painting; it was much better than the other things he'd seen on the walls in this office.  He pulled out some parchment from a drawer and found a quill and ink and began to work on the post for the team.

"There he is!"

"Oh, does he have it?"

"Harry!  Where the hell you've been?"

A rush of questions and Gryffindors hit Harry as he entered the Common Room.  Apparently he hadn't realized what a big announcement the quidditch team was for the House.  In fact, now that he thought about it, they had never had tryouts besides last year since he'd been at Hogwarts and there _had_ been a party going on after he had finally gotten out of his detention with…well, anyway, it was obviously a big deal.

He grinned as a few people pushed near and bounced excitedly to get the news.  "Didn't realize it was such a big deal," he muttered.

"Where've you been?" asked Katie frantically as she came up to Harry and dragged him aside.  "We've been going stir crazy in here! And then you weren't anywhere to be found for dinner! _Harry!"_

Harry was laughing now.  "What?  Why?  I was helping McGonagall with some stuff."

"_Why?"_ she said as her eyes bugged out.  "It's only the start of the biggest party of the year--except for the end of the year--it's tradition!"

Harry shook his head, "No it's not, I've never--well, okay, last year there was a party but never before that."

Katie hopped as Harry took his time unfurling the roll of parchment with the team.  "Harry, we didn't have to add any players before last year after you had joined!"

"Exactly!" said Harry as he smoothed out the parchment, purposefully taking his time.  "No one ever had a party in _my_ first year."

Katie looked stricken for a moment and then clamped a hand over her mouth.  Harry thought he heard a muffled 'oops'.  

"What was that?" he asked.

"Er…" Katie laughed.  "Well, that's right, but there was a party."  Harry arched his eyebrows at her.  "Yeah, just Oliver was a bit insistent upon one condition that year."

"Which was?" Harry asked, now crossing his arms and holding the parchment against his chest, making others groan in frustration.

Katie frowned and then stomped her foot and said, "He made us promise not to taint the star Seeker with butterbeer and he forbid us to tell you about the party."

"What!?" Harry cried indignantly.  "He!!  Oooh," he said as his eyes narrowed and he thought about Oliver Wood saying just that very thing.  How like Oliver that would be.  Yes, Oliver valued quidditch over food and sleep; the git was insane.  

Harry turned and tacked the parchment to the wall, causing a great cheer to go up.  He turned, faced Katie and pointed a finger in her face, "I'm taking this all out on you, you know.  You're the only one of the lot left."  A sly grin grew in his face and he stated, "You owe me a party."

Katie got an equally sly grin, rubbed her hands together and said, "Oh don't worry, I just got a shipment from Fred and George today."

Three hours, two invisible trips to the kitchens, and fifteen randomly illicit incidents of Weasley Wizard Wheezes later, a very contented Ron turned to Harry and said, "You know, Harry, what we need is something for a man."  He scrunched up his face as he held up his bottle of butterbeer.  "_Firewhiskey_--we need Firewhiskey."  He suddenly got the brightest look on his face (it was odd) and exclaimed, "_I know!  Harry--if we went to the Room of Requirement and said we __needed Firewhiskey--it might just give it to us!"  Ron looked like he had just been told that grades were now obsolete at Hogwarts and that they would rank people according to who had the most maroon jumpers.  _

Harry had to laugh at him and he grinned outright as he suggested, "Why don't you just ask me, maybe I'll just give it to you?"   Ron looked dumbly at Harry (that was more like it).  Maybe it was the dozen butterbeers or so that had made him do it.  More likely, it was the Wicked Lickers that Fred and George had sent along that had surely contained some liquors in addition to something that made you simultaneously levitate off the ground like a Fizzing Whizbee and made smoke come out of your ears like Pepper Up Potion.  Whatever it was, it made Harry fell it was just the perfect time to bring out something he'd been saving.  

"_Accio_ Firewhiskey," Harry called as he pointed his wand towards the boys' staircase.

Harry grinned at Ron as he turned and waited.  There was a 'thump!' from the stairs and as he saw the gleaming amber bottle flying towards him, making students duck out of the way left and right, Harry saw Seamus stumbling down the stairs and reaching out for the bottle.  "Stop that bottle!" he cried.

Harry snatched it from the air before Seamus could lunge for it.  Unfortunately this caused Seamus to dive head first into the chair and land on Ron's lap.  Ron barely noticed the lapful of Seamus as he hurriedly stood up, knocking Seamus to the ground, and gazed in admiration at the bottle in Harry's hand.  

Dean soon left his corner to follow the golden glow of the amber liquid, Ginny following curiously behind.  Lavender and Parvati, never ones to miss out, budged in.  Even Neville, who had forsaken his Prefect duties for the sake of the party, joined the small gathering that now formed in front of the fireplace.  

"Wow," said Dean in an awed voice.  "I can't believe we've got _Firewhiskey_!  Pass it around so we can all have some!"

"No, no, no, Thomas, you muggle!" Seamus said knowingly as he pulled out a small silver shot glass.  "You use one of these and set it aflame before you drink!"

"What?" Ron said with confusion.  "Nuh-uh, you don't do that, I know--I 've seen my brothers drink more times that I can count."

"That's not saying much," Ginny muttered to Harry.

Harry sniggered and said, "I've never seen anyone light it on fire before they drink Seamus. But, if that's what you want--."

"All right, all right," Seamus said, waving them off.  "Never mind, let's just play a game.  How about every time someone says the word…."

"Pants!" Ron shouted with his finger thrust into the air.  Harry snickered at him and dropped his head into his heads, chuckling.

"Pants?" Seamus, Dean and Ginny all said at once as they all looked incredulously at Ron.

"How often do we say the word 'pants', Ron?" Ginny asked mockingly.

Ron looked smug and crossed his arms as he said; "You just said it twice--so drink up."  He smirked at her.  "And then pass it here, I want some."

And thus began the first ever-traditional game of "Gryffindors Drink to Pants".  Logic and sense dulled and as the younger years headed up to bed, the older students only got wilder.

Less than an hour later, over half of the bottle of Firewhiskey was missing and after each time Ron would take a swig, he would remark with wonder, "Where is it all going?"  

Lavender, being the viciously gossipy witch that she was and now with a little looser tongue, asked suddenly with her eyes narrowed, "So, who wants to guess where Hermione's at?"

Parvati sniggered and Ron answered loudly, "In the library no doubt.  Said she had work to do after dinner!"  He laughed loudly at this.  Harry had looked around for Hermione earlier and not seen her.  He had figured she had either retired to her room early or was, as Ron said, in the library.  

Parvati laughed and said, "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure!" She and Lavender exchanged looks and giggled again.  

"How would you know?" Ginny asked from her spot where she was nestled between Harry and Dean.  She then leaned forward and called over, "Pass the bottle, Ron--you're hogging it all!"  

Lavender and Parvati each affected smug looks and Lavender said, "Care to place a bet on it?  Our money's on that's she's with _Blaise Zabini!"_

Ron's eyes bulged out at this and Harry felt a swooping feeling unsettle his stomach.  "_That's ridiculous!_" Ron shouted, echoing Harry's thoughts.

"Oh?" said Lavender shrilly.  "Who'd she bring to the DA last night?"

Ginny blew this off and said, "So?  Are you telling me _Harry is seeing _two_ different Slytherin girls just because he brought __them?"_

Lavender eyed Harry and said, "Well, I certainly hope not!"

"You have something against Slytherins?" Harry asked, his ire up now.  _Where the heck did that come from?  Must stop drinking when I begin to defend Slytherins…_

"Noooo," said Lavender slowly.  "But that was an interesting reaction of yours."  She raised her eyebrows and looked quickly at Parvati before she said, "I simply meant that there are plenty of Gryffindors who would --"

"There's no way she's with some Slytherin," Ron stated simply.  

Parvati shot him a look and archly said, "Well, she's with some_one_--or else you tell me why she would be taking the Prophylaxis Potion!"

Lavender added smugly, "I saw it in her nightstand when I borrowed a quill."

Harry's world was suddenly sinking and he somehow managed to see that Ron was gaping like a goldfish.  He had a fleeting thought about hexing Parvati and Lavender so they couldn't talk and then obliviating the rest and acting like none of this happened.  But then Ginny spoke up, "Just because a witch is on the Potion doesn't mean she's out to shag someone!  You both ought to know _that!"  Lavender and Parvati looked unconvinced.  "Hello!" Ginny shouted, "It can help regulate your hormones!"  _

This was way too much talk about female hormones and Harry did the only logical thing he could; he grabbed the bottle and drank deeply.  He blew the smoke from his mouth after he swallowed and blinked rapidly before saying, "Too much girl talk. How 'bout those Cannons?" as he shoved the bottle to Ron.  This effectively derailed the issue of why Hermione was on a Potion and Harry shot Ginny a grateful look.  

Eventually, Katie had brought down her Wizarding Wireless and now anyone who'd had anything at all to loosen up was dancing like they couldn't care less.  Except Harry.  He was simultaneously trying to avoid Lavender and Parvati who were trying to lure him to dance with them (both of them) and trying to avoid Colin Creevey who was standing on a table and trying to shout out a toast to Harry to anyone who would listen.  

"Harry! Hey Harry!" Colin called, spotting his hero again.  "A Toast--to Harry Potter our captain and the cream of Gryff--_oof!_"  Colin tumbled down, off the table and to the floor as a rogue pillow was mysteriously (Harry did it) banished across the room to pelt Colin in the head.

A small hand touched Harry's forearm and ran up to his shoulder.  "My, what a quick wand you have, Harry," he heard Lavender coo.  He pried her hand off of him and tried to back away.  

Unfortunately, he bumped into someone else that latched onto him and said, "You're not scared to dance with us, are you Harry?" Parvati inquired as she batted her lashes, "A big brave Gryffindor like you wouldn't be scared of little us, would he?"

"I don't dance," Harry said firmly and he tried to get out from between the two girls.

"But we can teach you, Harry!" Lavender cried with excitement.

Parvati gave him a predatory look as she said, "We can teach you more than dancing…"

Harry stumbled back, stepping on something soft and squishy.  "Ow, my pancreas," muttered someone that sounded like a muffled Colin from the floor.

"Hold this," Ron said as he thrust the bottle at Harry.  Ron proceeded to lie down upon the floor and allow Seamus to build a tower of Exploding Snap cards on Ron's stomach.  

Harry held up the bottle and shook it; there was very little left now.  _Well, am I still defending Slytherins?  Nope—Malfoy is indeed a ferret-faced sod.  Satisfied he was fine to have another drink; Harry tipped back the bottle and drained the last of it._

Another hand grabbed Harry's arm and he fearfully looked to see who was assaulting him now.  The room spun slightly as he turned to look and smoke wafted from his mouth.

"Hey, come here," Ginny said as she glared over at the other two skulking Gryffindor girls and dragged Harry over to the side.  "I was just upstairs and noticed Hermione's not back yet.  It's nearly curfew and she's bound to come in any minute."  Harry wasn't sure why Ginny was telling him this, although, he _had been wondering when Hermione would finally join them so he could see her again.  "Let's keep an eye out and make sure she doesn't go spare because we're all up to no good."  _

Harry nodded at her that he understood and wondered, _how does she know I was waiting for Hermione? _ "How do you—"

"Please, Harry," Ginny says knowingly, "You've been searching the Common Room all night, looking for _someone."_

An explosion then went off a few feet away from Harry.  Turning, he saw that Ron's robes had been blasted away by the Exploding Snap tower and his midriff was now exposed.  _That has got to hurt, Harry thought as he watched his best friend stand up, inspect the damage and then grin before giving Seamus a high-five._

Suddenly, Ron's face dropped and he gaped stupidly toward the portrait hole.  He and Seamus both stumbled to Harry and, still looking off at the entrance, Seamus pulled Harry up and said, "Go, distract her.  She'll kill us if she finds out—" he looked down and grabbed the empty bottle of Firewhiskey from Harry's hand and spun him around before pushing him towards the portrait hole.  

Standing there, hair bushy as ever and rucksack bulging, was Hermione.  Despite her slack-jawed surveying of the state of the Common Room, Harry still grinned at her as he walked up to her.  "Hey," he said, still grinning. 

Hermione narrowed her eyes as she looked past Harry towards the fire.  Harry turned and saw Ron now doing a very frighteningly accurate imitation of a belly dancer, showing off his bared midriff.  Seamus and Lavender were egging him on by throwing knuts at him, trying to get them to land in his belly button.

Harry quickly moved in front of Hermione to block her view.  She glared at him and then looked across the room to the other side.  He followed her gaze and saw two different unrecognizable couples snogging in dimly lit corners.  Just the sight of them, made Harry remember what he longed to do with Hermione right now.  He stepped in front of her again to block that view, grinning devilishly now.  

"Harry, what have you let them do?" she said with despair.

"Me? Nothing, I merely posted the names of the people who made the quidditch team," said Harry with a proud smile as he gestured to the bulletin board behind her.  Hermione spared a glance at it and frowned.  "Where have you been?" Harry asked her.

"Library.  Why weren't you at dinner?" Hermione asked.

"McGonagall asked me to help her for a while."

"Professor McGonagall was at dinner," said Hermione shrewdly.

Harry simply answered, "Well, that explains where she went while I finished grading her second year essays."

Hermione had clearly not expected this and stammered for a moment as she looked at Harry.  Then she scrunched up her nose.  She took a step towards Harry and leaned closer, narrowing her eyes.  Harry, thinking closer to Hermione was always a good thing, took a step towards her as well.  "What do I smell?" Hermione asked just moments before Harry's brain was about to urge him to kiss her.

Just then, Ron's timely loud voice carried across the Common Room as he said, "Harry! It's all gone!  We need more Firewhiskey!"  

Harry saw Hermione's face take on a deep scowl as she let her bag drop to the floor and angrily crossed her arms.  Harry firmly planted both hands on her shoulders and steered her backwards into a corner, just a few paces away from a heavily breathing couple that was joined at the mouth.  

Hermione started in an accusing and demanding tone, saying, "How did he--" 

"Me," Harry answered as he bore his gaze into hers.  "It was mine."

"And from where did _you get Firewhiskey, Harry?" Hermione asked shrilly, struggling to not let his intensely green gaze melt her._

"Gred and Forge," Harry grinned.  "For my birthday."

Hermione considered him for a moment and then conceded, "Well, I guess it lasted longer than I would have imagined then."  Another explosion went off by the fireplace and they looked over to see Ron now sporting blackened hair fringe.  Fleetingly, Harry was reminded of his own untidy mop.  

"RON!" Hermione shouted and made to storm over and put a stop to the nonsense.  

Harry stopped her from advancing with arm out and then wrapped it around her middle as he admonished her, "Shhh, Colin is sleeping."   He jerked his head over towards the prone body of the passed out Colin.  

Hermione looked like she was considering sending them all to bed and Harry couldn't help but admire the way her lower lip jutted out as she pursed her lips together in anger and the way her eyes glittered when they were narrowed so.  She then turned to look at Harry, who was looking back at her with desire clearly etched into his face.

"Harry," she said quietly as she removed his arm from her waist.  "There're people here."

"Then let's go someplace where people aren't," Harry suggested.  He looked around quickly and then whispered, "My bag is by the staircase, on the floor.  Take it upstairs like you're going to bed.  My cloak is inside, slip back down under the cloak and we can go somewhere."   Harry marveled inwardly at his ability to plan despite the burn of Firewhiskey still fresh in his mouth.

Hermione gave him a look and then, without a word, left towards the girls' staircase, picking up Harry's bag along the way.

"What'd she say?  Is she mad?" Ginny asked as Harry watched her disappear out of sight.

"No," he shook his head.  "Hey, can you help us--we're sneaking out and you can open the portrait hole for us.  If anyone asks where I went, just say I made another trip to the kitchens."

Ginny nodded and her eyes sparkled with mischief.  "I think you two could snog on the rug by the fireplace and Ron wouldn't even notice."

Harry then felt a hand slid across his back and he turned as it slid to squeeze his backside.  He saw no one but heard the distinct giggle of an amused Hermione.  "Block the view, Gin, while I get under the cloak," Harry said as he felt Hermione's hand smoothing over his chest now.  

"Hurry up," Ginny said as she made sure no one was watching.  She turned back to see nothing as she heard the distinct sound of a muffled moan.  "Hold on, you two; you're almost out," she whispered through gritted teeth as she nonchalantly walked around the corner and to the portrait hole.  

As she pushed open the portrait she heard them whisper, "Thanks," as they moved past.

Hermione had immediately wrapped her arms around Harry's waist when he joined her under his cloak.  Once in the hall, Hermione asked, "So, where are we--" her words died as Harry's mouth covered hers and pried it open as he delved his tongue in to tangle with hers.  Panting, she pulled away and finished her thought, "---going to go?"

"Er," Harry thought while he reacquainted himself with the wonderful feel of her body pressed against his.  

_Where can I find a bed…Someplace to go to be alone…Someplace just right…With a bed…Oh!  The Room of Requirement gave Dobby a bed when he needed one for Winky to sleep in._

_ "Come on," he said as he led Hermione away from Gryffindor Tower and down a flight to the familiar hallway._

"Here?" Hermione said, confused at first and then she got a look of understanding. "Oh!  Harry, what an excellent idea!  Let me do it!"  They paced together, under the cloak while Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated on the room she needed.  

Finally the door appeared and they entered a very small, cozy room with softly glowing candles and a large cherry wood canopied bed in the center.  The bed was covered and surrounded by sheer white gossamer hangings and bedcovers that made it appear to glow and all look very surreal.  

Hermione turned to Harry as he pulled off the invisibility cloak.  As she slid her arms around his neck, she breathed out, "Isn't this romantic?" 

"Er, yeah, it's very…white," Harry said as he wrapped his arms around her, feeling his body come alive at the wonderful feel of her body pressing against his.

With deliberate slowness, he lowered his mouth to hers as the heat between them soared.  Kissing Hermione, in Harry's opinion, was the nearest thing to the exhilaration of flying.  Her mouth opening and welcoming under his and her soft lips pressed against his own was enough to make him want to cry.   But, rather, he moaned into her mouth as his hands slid up her sides, to her shoulders and then unfastened the closures on her robe to let it fall back.  

Hermione had one hand lacing through his hair as the other smoothed over his chest, down to his jeans and then, with a jerk, tugged up his t-shirt.  Breathlessly, Harry pulled back for a moment, whipped his shirt up and over his head, and toed off his shoes.  With hunger, his mouth latched onto Hermione's neck as she tilted back her head and shuddered.  Harry's hands began to work open each button of her blouse, down to the last one.  As he spread open her blouse, his mouth moved around to kiss along her jaw, to her chin, to the hollow of her neck and then slowly, across and down her chest as he pushed the blouse off her shoulders, letting it fall softly to the floor.

She was left wearing a white lacy bra, her skirt and her knee-high white socks.  Pulling back from her, Harry drank in the sight and decided it was a vast improvement upon the standard school uniform.  He led her through the softly billowing, filmy hangings and onto the bed.  He let her lay back with her brown hair splayed upon the pillows.  Harry moved beside her and leaned over and began to kiss her, from her forehead down and over every inch of bared skin.  

He worked his way back up to her mouth and kissed her deeply.  As he pulled back and looked down into her eyes, Hermione licked her lips and smiled and said, "Mmm, my lips are all tingly.  I think it's the Firewhiskey still on your breath.  I could feel it making my skin tingle as you kissed me."  

Harry's mind began working devilishly and a grin grew to match his thoughts as he suggested, "Perhaps, I should see what else of yours I might make tingle."  The hand upon her stomach then slid lower and to her thigh, moving up and under her skirt.  He moved down the bed and with both hands, slipped off her knickers and flung them onto the floor.  He glanced up and, catching her gaze, saw her watching him with a mixture of desire, anticipation and curiosity.  "May I?" He asked his hands pushed her skirt up and above her hips, revealing her beneath.  

Hermione held his gaze and in a breathy voice, laid her head back and said, "You've been reading."

"Mmm, hmm," Harry said as he stroked the inside of her thigh, coaxing her legs open.  

~~~

Meanwhile, fewer and fewer people remained awake back in the Gryffindor Common room.  Seamus was snuggled up on the couch in front of the dying fire, cradling the empty bottle that had contained the Firewhiskey.  Ron was seated into one of the armchairs; his head lolling on his shoulders and muttering, "Pants, hehe, pants."

Distractedly, Ron realized through his haze that he was hearing voices and noises.  He first thought maybe he too was a parselmouth and he was hearing a giant snake slithering around the castle.  Blinking his eyes open rapidly and swiveling his head towards the sounds though; he couldn't see any snake.  But he could see _something_ moving behind the draperies by one of the large windows.   

Curious, he stumbled out of the chair and crossed the room.  As he neared, the noises became clearer and he thought it sounded either like someone in a lot of pain or like a disgruntled hippogriff.  Wondering which it could be, he pulled back the draperies.  

~~~

Back in the Room of Requirement, Harry and Hermione were fulfilling their needs.  Unsure and with only a few choice pointers and a few pictures in his mind, Harry had endeavored to master a new activity that was roundly recommended by The Book as the best way to please any woman—witch or muggle alike.  Eventually, through tentative explorations, he'd used Hermione's moans and fingers dragging through his hair as an indication to the proximity to his target.  Right now, he was pretty sure he was spot on.  

~~~

Ron widened his eyes, scrunched them shut tight and then opened wide again.  The red hair was immediately recognizable as Weasley red; long Weasley red hair.   

Here before Ron, was a boy and girl, clearly intent on snogging each other silly and the girl, Ron immediately recognized as his own sister.  Ginny was firmly seated in his lap and she moaned and threw back her head as he kissed her neck. Ron began to grin as he thought of the embarrassment he could cause by catching Harry and Ginny in such a state and then teasing them all about it.

With anticipated glee, Ron sang, "That's my sister you're snogging there, ya know."

~~~

Hermione's hands fisted into Harry's scalp and allowed him not the option to remove his head. He was pretty sure he hadn't taken a breath of air for at least three minutes. Her commands of "Don't stop!" and "No—the same as before!" were reiterating the fact that he was doomed to remain where he was until she had mercy on him or he passed out. He felt like his tongue might cramp up and another part of his brain (the one that sounded like Hermione)thought_, there's __got to be a charm to make this easier.  _

~~~

Ginny fell right off Dean's lap and landed with a '_ker-thump' onto the floor.  Ron's grin froze as he saw Ginny land on the floor and look up at her brother in paled astonishment.   He positively paled in shock as his eyes registered the boy as Dean Thomas.  _

The only word he breathed out was, "Harry," before he snapped his jaw shut and jerked Ginny off the floor by the neck of her robes.

~~~

If Harry thought he was tense, it was nothing to the way Hermione's body was tensing and quivering before him.  Instinctively, he knew (hoped) he was almost there; that Hermione was almost there.  _Soon, he told himself, __soon I can breathe.  _

Shaking, Hermione began to convulse and with a shriek, she nearly snapped Harry's head off as she suddenly rolled to the side and yanked him away.  

_Air…breathe…ahhh…air!!!  Harry regained a functional level of oxygen in his lungs and he watched as Hermione still panted upon the bed, growling his name and now looking at him with the deepest, darkest passion he'd ever seen in her eyes.  _

~~~

Ron veritably yanked his little sister to her feet and lifted her off the ground as he held her face inches away from his.  "_How could you do this to Harry?"_ he demanded wildly.  

Ginny, usually one who could take anything her brothers doled out, be it tricks, pranks, teasing or brotherly overbearance, was caught speechless.  But this—this rage--this was new.  

"_Finite Ebrius_!" Dean said with a rush as he pointed his wand at Ron.  He obviously hoped Ron's demeanor would calm with sobriety.  

Instead, Ron's face grew more and more red and Ginny tried to pry his hands away from the neck of her robes.  "Ron, it's not what you think!" she said desperately.  

"_Harry…you…betrayed_!"  Ron was spitting as he spat out the words at Ginny.  

Ginny was looking openly fearful now and she rushed to explain, "No, no Ron.  That's not it at all—let me down!"  She tried to kick at him to let her go.  "Stop it!" she yelled now as he lifted her higher off the ground.

"Put her down, mate," Dean said with forced calm as he trained his wand on Ron.  

In a flash, Ron dropped Ginny to the ground and wheeled to face Dean who never even had a chance to utter a hex before Ron's fist cracked into his jaw.  

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Ginny snarled as she drew her wand on Ron.  She hurried over to Dean and saw him working his jaw and grimacing in pain.  "Are you all right?" she asked worriedly as Ron lay in the Full Body Bind on the floor.  

Gingerly, Dean nodded and stood up.  "Yeah…fine."  

"Do you need to see Madame Pomfrey?" Ginny asked with concern.

He shook his head but as he said, "No—" his voice broke in pain with the effort to form the word.  

Ginny whirled on Ron and stared down at him.  She knew Ron could still hear her while bound and she spoke: "We're going to the hospital wing and don't you dare follow us, you overgrown prat!  I didn't betray anyone and if you'd have let me explain to begin with—you would know why!"  She dragged Dean out of the portrait hole, leaving Ron to work off the spell on his own.  

~~~

Hermione leaned up and pulled Harry to her as she commanded him, "Need you—now," and her hands hastily fumbled to unbutton his jeans.  Finally freeing him, she pushed his jeans down and he struggled to get them off as her hands immediately started pushing his boxers down, too.  Finally, he managed to rid himself of his clothes and turned back to Hermione's intensive stare.  She pulled his face to hers and he hesitated to kiss her, not sure if she really wanted that right now.  She yanked him closer and captured his mouth as he watched her face for any reaction to the taste his mouth now held.  

Hermione's eyes opened as she kissed him and as her mouth opened wider and her tongue battled his for dominance, he felt his arousal peak to new heights.  Hermione's leg then bent and she guided Harry atop her.  With a knee to the small of his back, she urged him forward and he complied, lining himself up and then thrusting with unchecked male force.

~~~

Ron snarled as the binding hex finally wore off.  He jumped up and glared at the portrait hole through which Ginny and Dean had, just minutes before, left.  He then turned and bounded up the stairs to the boys' dorm, determined to find Harry and tell him what had just happened.  

He flung open the hangings on Harry's bed and stared as he found it empty.  He wondered where else Harry could possibly be.  _Maybe he already saw them together, he thought with contempt aimed at Ginny and Dean.  _Where would he go?__

Ron spotted Harry's trunk at the foot of his bed and with a flash of brilliance, Ron went to it and threw it open.  He only marveled for a moment at the enlarged interior before spotting the worn piece of parchment he was looking for.  

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he muttered as he pointed his wand at the parchment.  The map activated and he scanned it quickly as he walked back down the staircase and into the Common Room.  He scanned the map, looking for the dot labeled "Harry Potter".  He wasn't seeing it anywhere.  

Not even pausing in the Common Room, he walked right out and down the hall into the castle, determined to find Harry and make sure his best friend was not sulking in a frantic depression over being betrayed by his sister.  He saw Harry's dot nowhere on the floor of Gryffindor Tower and he keep walking.  _I need to find Harry_, was his only thought as he scanned the map, examining the dungeon floor, the kitchens, the grounds, even by Hagrid's cabin and the Great Hall.  

~~~

Harry had never felt so uninhibited before.  His mind was flying with the triumphant joy of the obvious pleasure he'd been able to give to Hermione and now, he rode this high with new found abandon.  

Hermione clutched Harry's biceps and she willed every ounce of her heart to show him how much she wanted and loved him.    Harry couldn't have torn himself nor his eyes away from her for the world.  Voldemort himself could have walked in the door and he would not have cared.

~~~

_I need to find Harry, Ron desperately thought again as he paused in a hallway, still staring intently at the map.  Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a door handle appear.  Recognizing the room and realizing this would indeed be a place someone might go to be alone if they needed it, Ron grinned and yanked the door open._

~~~

With a burst of stars behind his eyes and what felt like an explosion welling from deep within his stomach, emanating throughout his entire body, even rippling out through Hermione, through their connected bodies, Harry cried out, "Oh gods," shaking and collapsing, shivering with ecstasy.  "Oh gods," he breathed out again as he panted.  "Hermione…_Hermione," her name meant everything to him at that moment.  _

He'd felt their connection—not merely physical—but a _true_ connection.  In her eyes he could see himself reflected; showing him just who it was she saw as Harry, just who it was she knew him to be.  He'd never seen himself so clearly before and in that glimpse; he'd had the briefest but most poignant view of a concept, that he had little to no previously understanding of ever before—love.   

Opening his eyes, he carefully rolled off to her side, drawing her leg with him and over his thigh to keep her close to him.  He kissed her with as much honesty showing from his heart through his eyes as he could imagine.  No words came to mind that could ever express the emotion he felt as her hand ran through his hair.  Before either could utter a word, a sound of something large collapsing to the floor startled them both.

~ ~ ~

Ron entered the Room of Requirement in a rush, eager to see and help his best friend, who, surely, Ron thought was in a desperate state after having likely witnessed his sister's betrayal.  The startling change in décor and arrangement of the room threw him for a moment and then he heard noises.  He saw softly billowing glowing sheers surrounding the noises and walked forwards.   

He immediately recognized the sound of his best friend's voice crying out in what sounded like distraught agony.  Ron rushed forward and drew aside the hangings.  Stunned beyond the capacity for rational thought, Ron swayed in the air for a few moments before fainting away in a heap to the floor.  

~ ~ ~

"You shouldn't have stunned him," Harry muttered as he levitated Ron's body into a chair awkwardly.

"Was I supposed to let him just wake up as we were scrambling to clothe ourselves?" Hermione countered as she inspected the new interior of the Room of Requirement.

The candles and romantic milieu was gone and a well-lit room that resembled the Gryffindor Common Room was now the setting.  It seemed that Harry and Hermione had both needed the room to be more conducive to not freaking out Ron any more than he surely would be once they allowed him to wake up.  

Just paces away from the bed where Harry and Hermione had been entangled in the climax of a most intimate encounter, Ron had fainted dead away to the floor.

Harry and Hermione had then swiftly jumped apart.  Hermione had reflexively stunned Ron for good measure, plucked the map from between his fingers, and then they both hurriedly dressed and changed the room to suit their new needs. 

As his heartbeat finally began to slow down, Harry stood looking down with sadness at Ron, who merely appeared to be sleeping.  Ron's robes were tattered from his encounters of having served as the human base for games of Exploding Snap.  His fringe, normally bright red and setting off his freckles across his face, was now blackened and made him look very pale.  

Harry felt Hermione's hand lace through his and she followed Harry's gaze.  "He might just be passed out for the night," she said with a tinge of wistfulness.  

Harry sighed and shook his head, "Only one way to find out."  He pointed his wand at his best friend of over five years and whispered, "_Ennervate."_

Ron blinked his eyes slowly without moving his body. Harry could see his eyes look up and about; roving around from where Ron was inelegantly draped across the armchair.  "Harry?" he croaked as he attempted to sit up.

Hermione dropped Harry's hand before Ron had turned and she dropped herself silently in the armchair furthest from Ron.  

"Right here," Harry said quietly as he took a tentative step towards Ron.  "Are you okay?"

Ron shifted in the chair and rolled his neck, contorting his face as he looked confused and said, "Yeah, yeah, what happened?"

Harry frowned slightly and said, "Er, you kind of fainted there."  

Harry held his breath as Ron took in the sight of his surroundings and looked at Hermione seated in the chair.  Ron seemed to be trying to remember all that had just happened and his face contorted even more until he just shook his head vigorously and said, "Weird. I've just had the weirdest dream, I think."  Ron sat up straighter in his chair and looked between Harry and Hermione and almost choked out a laugh as he said, "A nightmare really—it was _awful_—" Ron stopped short as he ran his hand through his hair and felt his scorched fringe.  He slowly felt his hair and then looked down at the state of his robes.  

"We, er…" Harry swallowed the lump in his throat and pushed on, "There's something we've been meaning to tell you, Ron."

Ron slowly looked up to meet Harry's pleading look.  As Harry stood there and watched his best friend's face, he could almost see the flashing images of he and Hermione together that Ron must be recalling right now.  Harry felt awful; like the worst friend in the world who, in trying to keep someone he cared about from getting hurt, had only succeeded in making it worse.  

"Please don't be angry, Ron," Harry said, the pleading in his eyes nearing desperation. 

"Ginny?" Ron said almost as a question, begging for an explanation as he began to shake his head back and forth.

"Ginny and I've never been seeing each other…" Harry said lamely.

"It was a cover, she's seeing someone else," Hermione said, speaking up for the first time.

Ron turned to her.  "Dean…I just caught her and Dean…" His head swiveled back to Harry and he said, "I was coming to find you.  I thought she had cheated on you."

Harry shook his head slowly.  "No," he said.  "No, she didn't cheat on anyone."

Ron's face took on the beginnings of a scowl and he looked shrewdly at Hermione's he said, "But you two aren't—" He stopped short as Hermione's hand reached out again for Harry's and held it.  

Harry felt the world pause as his hand held onto Hermione's.  The room was stifling and he felt as if he'd been holding his breath since they had revived Ron.  At her touch, Harry seemed to finally gain oxygen again after being held underwater. 

Ron's gaze was riveted to the sight of the two hands connecting his two friends.  In a flash, Ron leapt from the chair and made for the door to leave.  

"Wait!" Harry called out, dropping Hermione's hand.  "It's not what you think!"

Ron whirled to face him, his face livid and red as he said, "_What—_you're_ NOT shagging Hermione?"_

Harry gaped for a moment and then said weakly, "It--it's not like that."

Ron, with both hands, grasped the front of Harry's shirt and pushed him back a step and fumed as he said, "Tell me you _weren't just shagging her senseless when I came in here!!  Tell me!!!"_

"Ron—let him go!" Hermione said as she stood and approached them.

"_You!"_ Ron said as he pushed Harry away, turned to glare at Hermione and spat out, "And you tell me you weren't just _writhing_ under him—like—like—_some scarlet woman!!"_

Hermione took two quick steps forward, blinking in astonishment, and slapped Ron across the face.

Ron snarled at her.  Harry stepped in between them, facing Ron and backing up into Hermione as he roared, "Apologize to Hermione!"

"I don't want _you_ to make him apologize!" Hermione said, stepping out from behind Harry to glare at Ron openly.

Still facing Harry, Ron demanded, "How long?" with his fists clenched at his side and his voice tight with barely controlled rage.

Harry's face regained the look of pleading for forgiveness as he said, "We started seeing each other this summer."

"No," Ron said through clenched teeth. "How long have you been plotting _to get with Hermione_?"

Harry shook his head, "No, no, I never _planned this—"_

_Crack! Ron's fist knocked Harry out and flat on his back.  _

When Harry awoke, Hermione was hovering over him and his head ached.  He tried to blink open his eyes but found it was very blurry and one eye did not seem to open very far.  

"Are you okay, Harry?" Hermione asked, worried.

"I can't see," Harry mumbled as he felt his face.

Hermione handed him his glasses and said, "Here, I repaired them fairly well.  Careful," she said as his fingers glanced over his swelling and aching face and head.  "I used an Anti-Swelling Charm I read about but it's still pretty bad."

"Where's Ron?" Harry asked as he sat up gingerly from the floor and placed his glasses carefully on his face.

Hermione's look hardened and she said, "Gone.  And with all the racket he was making, I hope he got caught by Filch."  She softened and said, "We should get you to Madame Pomfrey."

Harry shook his head.  "No, I'll be fine."  He waved off her protests and said, "Let's go."  With the aid of the invisibility cloak and now the map, they returned to Gryffindor Tower and to their own dormitories.

As Harry blearily stumbled to his bed, he noted the closed hangings of Ron's bed and the absence of his snores.

The next morning, Harry, despite waking up several times, and a rumbling stomach, remained in the safe cocoon of his bed.  He heard others waking and groaning as the latent effects of the previous night's binge caught up to them.  Finally, when he was fairly certain he was alone in the dormitory and his bladder could wait no longer, he pushed himself out of bed and to the bathroom.  

After cleaning and showering, he looked into the mirror above a washbasin.  His right eye and cheek were bruised and still swollen.  There was a cut to the side of his eye from where his glasses had broken and cut into the skin.  It even hurt to grimace at the sight before him and the mirror summed up pretty much how he felt as it said, "You look like the back end of the Knight Bus, Deary." 

The door swung open and Harry turned, half expecting it to be Ron come to take another swing at him, rather, it was Dean.  "I see Ron found you last night, too," he said as Harry noticed the nasty purple and green shades coloring Deans left jaw.  Examining his injuries, Dean said, "Ginny dragged me to Pomfrey last night –this is after she healed it.  Had to stay there all night and the morning, too."

"Didn't she want to know what happened?" Harry asked.  He could just imagine the witch was livid about being awakened in the night to mop up the injuries from a student scuffle.

"Yeah, but Ginny just explained I was the victim of an overly protective act of brotherly love."

Harry had a vague wish that no one would see the obvious injuries on them but knew it was futile.  He had more private training with Dumbledore scheduled for the mid-afternoon and at this rate, Harry knew he had no time to even grab food from the kitchens before he had to go, much less stop by the hospital wing to get his face healed. Really, Dumbledore was one of the last people Harry wanted to see him like this, but then again, the man always seemed to know everything that went on in the school anyway.

The walk from the dorm to Dumbledore's office was thankfully quiet.  The beautiful autumn day had most of the students outside and the halls were rather vacant. 

"Harry, come in, come in," Dumbledore said as the spiral staircase brought Harry to the top.  Harry walked in with his face down and seated himself in his usual chair.  Dumbledore joined him in the seat by the fire and said, "I've not yet --"

Dumbledore's cheery voice fell as Harry looked up at him stoically for a moment before lowering his gaze again.  Harry's gaze focused upon a stack of muggle newspapers as Dumbledore spoke gently, "Is there…anything you'd like to tell me, Harry?  Anything at all?"

Harry felt awful enough as it was with the way Ron found out just how close Harry and Hermione had become.  He didn't want to look up and meet the eyes of Dumbledore, who he knew would be disappointed in how he'd treated his friend.  Harry kept his gaze down, and readjusted his glasses upon his face.  "Not really, sir," he said softly.

"Hmm, well, I can't help but notice, Harry," Dumbledore said conversationally, "that you appear to have been caught upon the receiving end of some rather ill will."

"Yes, well, I deserved it, sir," Harry muttered, hoping they could just move on to the lesson.

Harry saw Dumbledore nodding out of the corner of his eye and then the old man spoke, "Do you feel you've not the Occlumency skill at this point to look me in the eye and block your mind to me, Harry?"

"Er, well…"  Harry felt compelled to look at him and then dropped his gaze again as he said, "It's not that, sir.  I believe-I know I can now, well, I…"  Harry shrugged and said, "I guess I just feel I lack the particular motivation right now.  I'm not particularly hiding anything, sir.  I'd even assume you've already pieced together what did happen.  I guess, well, I guess I just don't feel much like dwelling on it—I feel to blame enough as it is without lending it more thought."  

Harry paused, crossed his legs, straightening the pleat on his robe as he fidgeted through the ensuing silence.  It compelled him to speak again, slowly in a faraway voice: "It was Hermione and I… we knew Ron would be crushed once he found out.  We wanted to wait to tell him…until we were more sure and he could take it better."  He paused staring at an unmoving picture in the muggle newspaper and added with a weary frown, "It rather backfired."

When Harry finally hazarded a gaze at Dumbledore, he saw the aged headmaster twinkling with amusement.  "I must say, Harry," he said as he lowered his chin to peer over the top of his half moon glasses, "I know the feeling."  

Harry avoided dinner that night with a roundabout trip to the kitchens.  When he later met with Susan Bones and the two Slytherin girls that evening to practice Defense, they all confirmed that it had become common knowledge thanks to the gossip mill of Hogwarts that Ron Weasley had physically attacked two different Gryffindors.   News of Harry's bruised face was sure to soon be added to the rumors and speculation.

The next morning, Ron had already up and left the dorm when Harry awoke.  On the way to breakfast, Harry met up with Hermione and, exchanging a look, they mutely accompanied each other to the Great Hall.   As they approached the Gryffindor table, Ron rose from his seat that was directly across from Ginny and Dean and, without a look, left the Hall.  

"Was he giving you two trouble again?" Hermione asked as she and Harry sat across from Dean and Ginny in the now vacant spot.

Ginny shot a dark look towards the doors where Ron had just left and said, "Not unless you count being an overbearing git and following me around everywhere and glowering at us whenever we speak to each other, no.  Oh, and just so you know, the rumors all say Ron got brassed off when he caught me and Dean snogging—which is true.  But you," she nodded at Harry and dropped her voice to a whisper, "he was mad at because you knew about us…or something—that's the nearest that I've heard—and that includes the Lavender and Pavarti rumors, too.  So, you know, if you two still wanted to keep yourselves a secret…"

"No," Harry said immediately.  He glanced at Hermione and said, "We've no one to hide it from anymore."  This was true enough now that Ron knew.  Voldemort found out over a month ago now and really, there was no other single person that this needed to be kept from.  The only thing that made Harry hesitate to bring it all out in the open was the dread that it would end up as a headline in the Daily Prophet.

"Well," Hermione said with a look to Harry that made him think they were sharing the same thoughts, "we won't make a big to do about it but Harry's right—there is no reason to hide it."

"Well there is one thing," Harry said as he looked pointedly to Ginny who looked up inquisitively.  "You need to write your parents.  Your mum would be furious to find out from some newspaper article first.  You can use Hedwig if you like."

Ginny's face fell; she scowled and grumbled, "Fine, but if she sends me a Howler, I'm banishing it to you."

In Potions that morning, Harry and Hermione were nervously watching the door to the classroom, awaiting Ron's arrival.  Ron had scampered out of Transfiguration in a hurry after sitting as far away as possible from Harry and Hermione.  As they waited, Malfoy tried to fling some insults at Harry and taunted, "Heard Weasel was furious you wouldn't take up with the Weaslet, Potter.  He must have been hoping you could marry into their family so they could buy a floor for their hovel." But Harry didn't even glance at him and Malfoy quickly went to sulking and glaring at his partners, Ernie and Neville.

As the bell rang, Snape strode in and, almost gleefully (for him), informed the class, "One gone and only thirteen left."  He came to an abrupt halt in front of Harry's table and whirled, making his robes swirl and dance and sneered down at Harry and said, "Hopefully, Weasley won't be the last to leave us this year."

Harry's heart sank, as he knew for sure now that Ron had given up on taking NEWT Potions.  It was with little joy that he joined in his group's planning for their project for the term.  

Millicent Bulstrode took the lead in Harry's group and started to direct.  "Poisons—we've got to design a theory to construct a universal poison class antidote and then proceed to construct it, test it and generate a submissible journalistic style report on the experiment.  Now who wrote about which poisons?  We need to have an outline for our plan by next week."

Padma and Millicent seemed to battle for dominance in the group as they argued over the scope of their group project while Harry listened listlessly and watched Snape glower as he stalked around the room ominously.

After class and heading towards the Great Hall for lunch, Hermione caught up with Harry and said, "I can't believe he dropped the class!"

"I can," Harry said darkly.  "We knew he'd probably do this.  We never should have kept it from him—just should have told him everything from the start."

Hermione stopped walking and looked incredulous as she said, "When?  One day after we first kissed?"  Harry noticed a few passing students turn their heads at this.  "Or maybe two days after we first decided to see each other?  Harry—_we_ weren't even sure about ourselves at that point!"

Harry glared at Mandy Brocklehurst who was staring and nudging a fellow student as she pointed at Harry and Hermione stopped in the hallway.  "No, Hermione, I mean--urgh!" he growled and dragged her off to the side of the hall as more and more people were turning their heads towards their rising voices.  

"Listen Hermione," Harry said in a heated whisper, "We could have wrote him about it after they left this summer or we could have told him on the train ride here—but no, we patronized him and kept him in the dark because we thought we knew what was best for him.  And look where all that got us now!  We were wrong to hide it."  

Hermione's eyes were shinning and her gaze ran over the bruising still evident on Harry's face as she said, "You don't think it would get to him if he saw us holding hands or even kiss goodnight?  Harry—I know you and know you don't want to hurt Ron any more than you would ever want to hurt me.  But it's not our fault he's got this…" Hermione's drew her mouth into a thin line and then continued, "_thing that no one should be with me!  He doesn't own me!"  Her eyes welled with tears and Harry watched her cross her arms in an effort to hold herself together and not cry.  "He has no right," she said piteously._

A crying girl was always a bad thing, but an almost crying Hermione always made Harry's heart ache with misery.  As the most natural thing in the world, he stepped close to her and wrapped both arms around her, cradling her head as it rested on his shoulder.  He was distantly aware this was probably quite a scene for the halls of Hogwarts but he was also aware that he was tired of holding back his feelings and pretending to be someone he wasn't.  He was tired of pretending to ignore the fact that holding Hermione like this made him—_him, feel like he was living far beyond his greatest dreams._

"You've got enough people loitering around here to make an official press statement," Hermione whispered with her head still on his shoulder.  

Harry smiled and drew her head back to look at her face.  Gazing into her eyes, he silently asked her permission to make it official.  Hermione responded by reaching a hand around his head and lifting up on tiptoe to meet him as he lowered his head to kiss her.  A quick succession of very brief and chaste kisses and a lingering embrace left them filled with all the meaning and promise in the world; all the promise that together, they would go on and that together is where they wanted to be.

They left the small gawking and whispering crowd in the hall and entered the Great Hall for lunch with their hands clasped in each other's.  Approaching the Gryffindor table, Harry saw Neville grin, as were Dean and Ginny and several others.  Ron was notably not there. 

"It's about time!" Neville said enthusiastically with uncharacteristic abandon.  

A flash went off, temporarily blinding them and Harry immediately knew Colin Creevey had just commemorated the moment.    

As they took their seats, Harry noticed a few people trading coins as if to pay off a lost bet and saw Pavarti and Lavender whispering furiously back and forth at one end of the table.  He leaned in and whispered to Hermione apologetically, "Oh, I should tell, unless Ginny already told you, your two dorm mates?  Yeah, they know about the potion you're on.  I'm sure it won't take them too long to put it all together."

Hermione gave him a look and then said just as apologetically, "Well, I should tell you then, unless of course Ginny has already told you…having my dorm mates know you're off the market?  Yeah, it's just an added benefit.  After all, it means they can put a stop to their little plotting of trying to tempt you with their womanly ways."

Harry narrowed his eyes and wondered how much she knew about how Lavender and Pavarti had been pursuing him the night of the party.  "I wasn't tempted," he said trying to sound convincing.

"Uh, huh," Hermione said as she looked across the table at Ginny and poured two glasses of pumpkin juice.  "Two girls together doesn't tempt you," she stated for confirmation.

"No," Harry said as his voice broke slightly in an effort to again sound convincing.  (He was wondering though, whether it was really Hermione or himself that he was trying to convince.)

"Hmm," Hermione said loftily, "well I guess I'll cancel that thing I was planning with Ginny then."  Hermione smirked and Ginny choked on her pumpkin juice she was drinking as she erupted in a fit of laughter.  Harry and Dean just stared slack jawed at the two girls, slowly processing the concept that would be their new fantasy for years to come.  

Feeling like things could only get better from here, Harry left lunch with high spirits to meet yet again with Dumbledore for more training.  He was hoping that soon, they would have a Boggart to work with and further his Occlumency.  The previous day's session had been almost like a game of charades where Dumbledore would ask Harry a question and then, only after a minute of closing his mind, would Harry allow the answer to the question to flash in his mind for Dumbledore to see.  

"What do you mean he won't do it?  Of course he would—the boy does whatever you tell him to, Dumbledore!"  

Harry stopped as he reached the top landing outside Professor Dumbledore's office.  The door was slightly ajar and the voice within made Harry freeze and seethe with anger.  

"Cornelius, I have told you before, Harry makes his own decisions.  I do not control him and do not believe I could even if I were ever with want to try."  

Any reservations Harry had about eavesdropping on the conversation were washed away as he realized he was the subject of this conversation. 

"He's a child!" Fudge blustered and Harry could hear the Minister sputtering.  "Surely someone tells him what to do!  And well, if not—then that's a problem we can't have!  Listen—I've made enough allowances for his sake—the least he—"

"Cornelius," Harry could hear the hard edge to Dumbledore's warning voice now, "Harry is not a tool for you to wield for your purposes.  If you truly believe he might help the Ministry raise funds to support the strengthening of defenses against the building Dark Army, then I suggest you ask him yourself."

"This is politics, Dumbledore!" Fudge said dismissively.  "You can't tell me a boy would understand the nuances and delicate balance that comprises the running of the Ministry."

Then a new voice spoke, one, which Harry also knew all too well, "Really Professor, you can't imagine the Potter boy could _fathom the complexities of the running of the Ministry.  But he would surely be able to see reason and I would even wager he'd like to feel he's doing something to help."_

Harry only managed to brace himself with composed restraint for a moment before he stepped forward, nudged the door to swing open and then strode forth into the room.  Extending his hand in greeting and with mocking joviality, Harry cried, "Percy!  How really _corking_ to see you!"

~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~

NOTE:  The "Pants" game is real my friends!!!  I saw it first on an HP website.  I'll post a link to the wonderful site where people write Harry Potter lines in the Game of Pants.  I'd post it here, but FF.net gets all freaky about that crap.  So, to my yahoo group if you want the link!  And here's to pants!!  Cheers!!


	26. Chapter 29 Oh Fudge!

Chapter 29. Oh Fudge!

Then a new voice spoke, one, which Harry also knew all too well, "Really Professor, you can't imagine the Potter boy could _fathom_ the complexities of the running of the Ministry.  But he would surely be able to see reason and I would even wager he'd like to feel he's doing something to help."

Harry only managed to brace himself with composed restraint for a moment before he stepped forward, nudged the door to swing open and then strode forth into the room.  Extending his hand in mock joviality of a greeting, Harry cried, "Percy!  How really corking to see you!"

~

~

~

If Harry hadn't been so ticked off as he gripped Percy's hand tightly, shaking it jauntily, he would found Percy's expression to be quite amusing.  Despite Harry's amicable words and actions, his face bore no cheer and if the mounting look on Percy's face was anything to judge by, then Harry must have appeared downright menacing.  

Harry held Percy's hand longer than necessary, squeezing and grasping it between both of his hands as he let Percy squirm under the full weight of his gaze.  Last Harry recalled, Percy had been a great many inches taller than him, and so it was with a celebratory inner leap that he found himself now eye-to-eye, matching Percy equally in height.   

"Haven't seen you around much, Perce, old boy.  What's it been?  Nearly a year?"  Harry's eyes were narrowed and glinting with a spark of spite.  "Yes, it was down in that old Courtroom Ten now wasn't it?  And I can't seem to recall the occasion…what was it?" 

Harry still had not let go of Percy's hand and he drew strength from Percy's increasing discomfort and from seeing Fudge's gaping face over Percy's shoulder.  "Ah yes, that trial—a trifle of a misunderstanding really, wasn't it?  Yes, yes…oh, now I'd almost forgot!  I also saw you here last year in this very room!  Yes, yes, here to help expel me then, weren't you?"  Harry smiled almost genially, but the raging calm of his eyes made the smile seem almost maniacal as his eyes narrowed and he held Percy captive to his tirade.  "Tsk, yes, but really, that was yet, but another 'misunderstanding' then, wasn't it, eh?"   

Through a towering moment of silence, Harry watched as Percy struggled to regain some form of composure.  Percy forced a half-grin and tried to pump Harry's hand in return of greeting and tried to laugh as he said, "Yes, well, Harry, er, yes…er, you catch a flying cauldron in the eye, there?" Percy waved to gesture at the bruising on Harry's face.

Harry let Percy's hand drop before he raised a hand to feel the cut on his face and remarked, "This?  Oh, no, no, you know me, always a bit _unstable and prone to…__violence." _

Percy looked like he might have wanted to test the apparition barrier within Hogwarts at that moment.  Fudge then burst in with what sounded like forced laughter that grew louder as he then cried out, "Oh, always was a good humored lad, wasn't he, yes, yes, Harry!  I'm glad we've all been able to see the mistakes we've each made in the past.  All behind us now, moving on, moving on, busy times," he muttered the last part to himself.   

Harry turned with deliberate slowness towards Fudge and saw the portly wizard rocking anxiously back on his heals and trying to appear (but failing miserably) congenial with a poorly held smile fixed on his face.   

Harry then became aware of a strange prickling sensation on the back of his neck, like he was being watched with the weight of eyes upon him.  He tore his fixed gaze from Fudge and scanned to circular office slowly; he noticed several portraits had abandoned the pretense of appearing to be asleep and were watching with unconcealed curiosity.  

"Well, now, Harry," Fudge said as he twirled his bowler hat in his hands.  "We just arrived here to discuss our making amends with you for that little misunderstanding last summer."  

Harry quirked an eyebrow up at this and remained silent, his hands clasped behind his back now.  "Er, right," Fudge went on as Harry noticed Dumbledore seat himself back into the chair behind his desk, "Harry, yes, well, we'd like to offer you an apology, you see."  Harry's eyebrows both rose at this.  "Yes, yes, in the form of allowing you to publicly tell your story; for everyone to hear of course.  We'd call a conference with the Press, of course…and invite everyone to attend." 

Fudge's smile faltered as Harry remained emotionless and merely watched him with mounting stoicism.  "We can make it clear the, er, _suffering you've endured.  I mean the Press is who maligned you so terribly last year, shameful really—those slanderous rumormongers!  It's the least they owe to you—to put your story out there into the light and…well, and to make sure everyone knows the truth and that they _can_ and __should believe you.  Harry, it's the least I can do," he said, dramatically feigning remorse.  _

Harry stared at him; wondering how long Fudge would bluster on with this charade.  Harry couldn't help but believe his story had already been circulated quite thoroughly thanks to the Quibbler and the Daily Prophet.  After a few moments of silence where Fudge was twisting his hat in nervousness, Harry said, "That's quite alright, but really, there's no need."  Fudge opened his mouth to speak but Harry spoke over him and went on, "I imagine the Ministry has a great deal of responsibility and much more important work to concern itself with than any injured feelings a boy, such as I, might have."

Percy spoke, puffed up with importance as he said, "You'd be helping us if—"

"—If you just," Fudge laughed shortly as he cut Percy off abruptly and covered, "well, if you just let us make these amends.  We feel it's the very least we can do.  It's our obligation, really.  You can understand that, can't you Harry?"

Harry smiled sweetly and bowed his head as he said indulgently, "Well, I'm sure I can't even begin to _fathom the complexities of running the Ministry…"_

Fudge nearly dropped his hat and fumbled it for a moment and then smiled uncomfortably back at Harry, his eyes darting off around the room and refusing to meet Harry's sickly sweet smile.  "Well, well, per-perhaps the good professor, Dumbledore, you might explain just how helpful it would be for Harry to allow us to…er, yes, make these amends…hmm?" Fudge looked expectantly at Dumbledore.   

Dumbledore merely surveyed Fudge with a less than twinkling look.  Fudge looked nervously between Harry and Dumbledore and then stepped quickly around Dumbledore's desk and began whispering into his ear, gesticulating with fervor.

Harry watched them for a moment and then turned sharply to study Percy.  Harry could swear he felt someone staring a hole into the back of his skull.  "Pity, isn't it, Percy?" Harry stated in a conversational undertone as he stepped around to the side.  

Percy seemed to glance around the room for an excuse to not talk to Harry and, finding none, turned back and tried to smile and asked quietly, "Er, what's that, Harry, then?"

Harry surveyed the redhead coolly and said in a low, gravelly voice, "Pity, Perce, that you seem to have wasted seven years in these halls.  What with all your ambition, I reckon you missed your calling to do well in Slytherin."  Percy's eyes went wide and Harry continued, not really sure just why Percy was eliciting such bitter spite from him. "Really, Perce, with honor such as yours…" Harry peered intently into Percy's startled blue eyes as he went on, "Honor—to friends and _family… it's a wonder you ever got sorted into Gryffindor."_

Percy grew brilliant Weasley-red at this, pointed a finger at Harry and whispered heatedly; "Don't talk to me about family and honor!!  _I'm the only one left in my family with any honor!  I've vowed to bring honor __back the name of Weasley!"  Percy snapped his mouth shut and looked quickly around the office.  _

Harry remained cool, watching him.  "Ah, so this is about the honor of blood, is it?"  Harry had the distinct feeling Percy was ashamed of his family's reputation for having an affinity for muggles and for lacking 'proper Wizarding pride'. 

Percy latched onto Harry's arm and drew him close and, still whispering but heatedly, said, "You don't understand the importance of _blood_, Harry!  You've not been properly raised—"

"Pardon me—" Harry jerked his arm free and glared daggers at Percy as he dropped the whispering but remained speaking in an undertone, "—for not having any parents.  And for someone who claims to place such importance upon blood, why then Percy, why so eagerly forsake those of your own blood?"  Percy looked like he'd been slapped and Harry hoped it indicated that Percy may have woken up to his hypocrisy. Harry then felt the sudden need to change the subject and rather innocently asked, "So, how is Penelope Clearwater these days, Percy?  Are you still seeing her?  She was ever so nice."

Percy's eyes flared at the name of his school sweetheart, and Harry could have sworn he saw shame in Percy's eyes at the thought of his former girlfriend.  Percy's mouth worked and was about to open to speak when another voice cut him off.

"We've got to be off!" Fudge cried stridently as he walked back around from Dumbledore's desk.  Dumbledore rose from his chair and surveyed Fudge over his glasses.  "Yes, now then Harry, your professor here," he gestured at Dumbledore who was not smiling, "he'll explain everything so you understand.  We'll see you soon then.  Study hard!"

With a furtive glance around the room, Fudge bustled past and steered Percy out the door.  As Harry watched the door slam shortly after they walked out, he whirled back around towards Dumbledore and flung himself into a chair and sighed exasperatedly.  

 "Well, that was certainly entertaining," Moody's voice growled from behind Harry, almost stealing the words from Harry's very mouth.

Harry spun in his seat to see the ex-Auror slipping out from underneath an invisibility cloak and smiling in a very unsettling manner simultaneously at both Harry and Dumbledore.

"What the?!" Harry cried, shaking his head in confusion.

"Don't tell me you didn't know we were there!" Moody growled at Harry and he limped to settle into a chair.  

"You!" Harry's eyes narrowed and he recalled the feeling of being watched.  He looked about the room again and said, "Who else?"

Moody's magical eye spun and whirled as he turned to face Harry and cried, "Who else?  Fudge and his two goons!  Walks all around now with at least two undercover Aurors.  Don't tell me you didn't even pick them up?  You do have your Perimeter Charm up, don't ya, lad?"

"Goons?  My—oh! _You_!"  Harry pointed a finger at Moody.  Since he had arrived at back at Hogwarts, Harry had found his Perimeter Charm to be very bothersome at odd times as it was always going off and almost always giving him the feeling that he was being watched.  He had always had the feeling that Moody was tripping the charm here and there but then that seemed incredibly unlikely in the halls of Hogwarts between classes.  Then, with everyone else all around him and constantly setting the charm off, it drove him crazy, thinking someone was always following him…which made him think he was just becoming paranoid like Moody because it was always being set off.  "Have you been following me all around?!"

"Well, I'd hope you could pick me up—bit daft if you missed that—"

"Oh, you!" Harry cried and dropped his head into his hands.  "It's been driving me mad!  That charm always going off—I thought it was just overload from so many people being around—I started to get the feeling I was being watched and always being followed and, well...I've shrunk it considerably.  You should have told me—it was you setting it off then.  I just…I just thought I was getting paranoid," Harry answered lamely.  Damn Moody for eliciting a shiver of paranoia whenever he set off a Perimeter Charm; it had been the same when he set off the Order's charmed galleon.  It was no wonder his paranoia was infectious.

Moody eyed him, snorted and said, "Better paranoid than dead, I always say."

Dumbledore chuckled with amusement and Harry tried to at least add, "I did think I was being watched, though just now…just," he gestured around the room to the walls, "thought it was the portraits."

Dumbledore nodded in understanding.  "Well, Harry, I believe you overheard enough before you came in?"

"Oh, yes, well, I heard he wants to raise money and use me—actually, I guess you said that sir."

Dumbledore twinkled and said, "Yes, I knew you were out there and, well, with the tone Cornelius was taking, I figured it was only matter of time before you would want to step into the room.  I thought it best to clarify for you what the point of his visit was."

Harry nodded.  "Yes, sorry about all that.  I just...well, you know."  Dumbledore twinkled knowingly at him.  "Well, why does he—well, I heard to strengthen the Ministry's forces…oh, I suppose I really can't refuse that, can I?" Harry said with defeat.

Dumbledore looked surprised for a moment and then said, "Well, it seems he feels a financial strain upon the burdens the Ministry faces in strengthening its forces.  They've been hiring on increased numbers of Aurors and even soliciting aid from foreign Ministries."

"And how am I supposed to help?  It sounds like he wants to use me as some sort of pitiful war victim propaganda or such.  And his talk about the Press owing it me for their slander…I have it on good authority, from Rita Skeeter no less, that Fudge was the very one leaning on the Prophet to defame me in the first place!  He's got some nerve…"  Harry shook his head, glowering as he spoke.

"And just what is the little deal you've got with that Skeeter?" Moody asked, stepping forward with interest.  "You get her to come out of nowhere last year and write that article for the Quibbler, then you get her to give a timely interview to help sway students to ride the Express—now she's telling you what Fudge was doing to the Prophet?"

"Oh," Harry said, looking between Moody and Dumbledore.  "Well, er, yeah, we've got a bit of an arrangement." Harry decided to change the subject and asked Moody, "How long were you planning to follow me around?"

"Until you realized you were being followed," Moody replied gruffly.

"Well!  Oh, I –damn it!  I thought I was mad thinking I kept feeling you tripping the damn charm," Harry complained again.

"Yeah, yeah, now," Moody said, waving it off and moving towards the door. 

"Can't believe you spend all your time following me around," Harry grumbled.

"Not all my time, I do sleep you know.  Trust you to keep to your Tower after curfew and really, it's not all the time.  Just occasionally," Moody conceded.  

"Er, not after curfew, eh?" Harry asked quickly as he immediately imagined Moody following him and Hermione…_Ergh, must stop that thought!_  

Moody eyed him closely, holding his invisibility cloak.  "You _do stick to your Tower, don't you?"_

Harry laughed and said, "Well, of course, er, unless, you know…well, um, yeah.  If I don't--I mean, I've got my cloak and well, my map and…yeah, no one's about to sneak up on me then…right?"  He tried to smile but failed miserably.

"They'd better not," Moody growled as he turned to leave them alone.  "I didn't teach you to stay alive for nothing!"

As he left, Harry turned back to Dumbledore to see the aged wizard smiling and twinkling knowingly.  Harry tried to project the image of himself as a sweet and innocent little boy.  Dumbledore only chuckled with amusement.  

Harry sobered and said with a sigh, "So, I take it Fudge wants you to convince me?"

Dumbledore sighed as well and nodded.  "Yes, he wanted to remind me that as I acted as your legal guardian over the summer when I pulled forth some favors to get you an early learning permit for apparition, I should still be able to wield some authority over you and, well, I believe his phrase was 'properly coerce' you."  Dumbledore looked apologetically at Harry and went on, "Cornelius has not always had the best of tact and finesse when it comes to asking favors."

"Apparently not," Harry answered dryly.  "What, specifically does he have in mind?  I assume this is some public event or such?"  Harry asked with trepidation.  Speaking in public was definitely not on his list of things he ever wanted to have to do, especially to the Press.

Dumbledore looked contemplative.  "Well, I believe that is what Cornelius had in mind, however, I am not very enamored of the idea.  It presents an awful security risk to have a known date where you'll be standing in front of all sorts of people.  But, depending upon what sort of arrangement you have with Miss Skeeter, perhaps we can find another way for you to offer your support.  Frankly, I won't lie to you; I think Cornelius is asking an awful lot to expect any help on this from either you or myself.  The Ministry has ways of its own to secure funding.  Why don't you send an owl to Miss Skeeter, Harry."

"Fudge wants _you to help __him?" Hermione asked incredulously.  She and Harry were in his Defense office after dinner and Harry had just finished telling her about his run in with Fudge and Percy that morning.  _

Word had seemed to spread quickly of Harry and Hermione's relationship, (no surprise there) and they both had spent as little time in the Great Hall for dinner as possible before hurrying off in the wake of stares, pointing and whispers.  They had no doubt the rumor mill of Hogwarts would easily piece together the detention Ron had served all day on Sunday for striking a student (or two), Harry's bruised and cut face, and the sudden revelation of Harry's new girlfriend.  

"Uh-huh," Harry said.  "And now I'm writing to Rita—you'll help me draft the letter, won't you?  I want to get it sent out tonight."  Harry had already discussed what to write with Dumbledore that afternoon.  As long as Harry gave Rita just the general gist of a newsworthy story and explained the angle he wanted it have, she had agreed to maintain her arrangement with Harry and Hermione in return for the exclusive rights to publish all official statements from Harry.  Of course, the rest of the world was again free reign for her scathing quill.  

"I wonder if this is why Fudge hasn't assigned any Aurors to help secure the school," Hermione mused as she oversaw Harry's letter.  "Even if there's been a run on gold, you'd still think protecting the school and the student would be a priority."

"Hmm?  Oh no, Dumbledore said that was his request.  He says he thinks it would be a greater risk to have unknown people entrusted to securing the castle than just relying on the castle's own defenses.   Plus, the Order had its own security committee work on it."

"What about Tonks and maybe Kingsley?" Hermione suggested as she read over Harry's shoulder.

"No, they're more valuable in their original positions and giving intelligence from their everyday contacts.  They'd be too isolated if they were stationed here."  Harry had already had this discussion with Dumbledore at least a week ago.  

After the letter was complete and also having completed their Transfiguration homework, Harry said, "Well, it's half an hour to curfew, I want to send this out tonight and so I should probably get to the Owlry."

Hermione looked up from her book and noticed the time.  "Oh, yes, I wanted to go the library this evening."

Harry felt a smile grow as he watched Hermione stack up and pack away five separate books.  Leave it to Hermione to insist on carrying around and reading any book remotely related to any assignment she worked on.  "Need to check out a few more books?" He asked with amusement.

"Yes, I do.  I wanted to—what's so funny?" she asked as Harry started snickering at her.  

"You," he said as he mockingly feigned the inability to lift her book bag.  "You know, you've a birthday coming up and I've always gotten you some book.  I think you've enough books.   It'll have to be something different—any wishes?"  

Hermione looked up at him, startled, for a moment before saying, "Oh, you don't have to."

"Of course I do and I will."

"But if you've not gotten something already, then how—"

"Owl Order.  Now quit avoiding the question.  What is it you want?" Harry asked as he sat back down in the chair beside her and tucked a few tendrils of her hair behind her ear.  

Hermione frowned and said, "Harry, if you were going out with some other girl and it was her birthday and you knew you had to get her a gift, how would you figure out what to get her?"

Harry looked confused at the question and answered with amusement, "Well, I probably just ask you what to get."

"Exactly," Hermione said.  "So you can't ask me now.  I'm sure you'll figure it out."  She stood up and shouldered her bag, as Harry looked bewildered.  "See you back in the Common Room," she called as she left the office.  

Harry was left shaking his head and wondering, _what the hell did that mean_?  

The next day progressed with the wildest rumors about the Ron-punching-Harry-because-he's-dating-Hermione fiasco were, in all actuality, being very spot on.  Harry had heard Mandy Brocklehurst glibly state that she had heard Harry and Hermione had been caught by Ron in a heated unclothed tryst on the Gryffindor Common Room floor, but of course, _she didn't believe such exaggerations as truth.  _

Harry was just very thankful that Ron seemed to have been too mortified at the memory of that night to even confirm or expound upon these rumors.  In fact, Ron took every possible opportunity to avoid Harry and Hermione all together. 

The Quidditch captains all met mid-morning on Tuesday.  Harry was not looking forward to trying to compromise with Zacharias Smith, Cho Chang and whoever the Slytherin captain was to be.  When he arrived at Madame Hooch's office, after walking with Smith from Charms, they were each very surprised to see Millicent Bulstrode there, sitting dourly in the corner.  

"You're the Slytherin Captain?" Harry asked immediately, drawing a glowering look from her.

"Stunning grasp of the obvious, Potter," she said with all the usual char, and congeniality of her House.

Harry stared at her for a moment and caught himself as he thought: _shouldn't have expected anything less from a Slytherin_.   "I was merely commenting, Bulstrode, you weren't even on the team before this year.  I'm just rather surprised Malfoy didn't manage to buy his way to the captaincy."

"If you haven't noticed, Potter, the name Malfoy is worth a lot less this year," she said coolly.

Cho and Hooch then arrived, cutting off any further fascinating glimpse into the dynamics of the Slytherin social circle.

It took over an hour, with Cho being extremely mulish about setting the Ravenclaw practice times, but they finally worked out a practice schedule.  The schedule rotated, based upon which two teams were scheduled for the upcoming match.  As the first game was Slytherin and Hufflepuff, they would each get the prime practice spots up until their game.  

Harry was quite happy with this arrangement, as it meant he wouldn't have to call a practice for the team for at least another few weeks and, even then, it would only be twice a week until the first match was played on the first weekend in November.  

One thing that was different this year was the schedule.  Since Harry had been at Hogwarts the quidditch schedule had never changed from year-to-year and had always started with Gryffindor playing Slytherin.  Not that Harry was complaining.  No, in fact, he was very pleased to have the year to boost his team's skill and ability to play well as a team before facing off in the heated rivalry.

It was with much excitement and anticipation that the sixth years all filed into Defense Against the Dark Arts that week.  Snape had promised them that their newly assigned groups would be matched against another group and they would be dueling.  

"Silence," Snape intoned as he strode into the classroom.  Everyone was standing around in their groups, wands out and waiting anxiously for the dueling to begin.  Harry had to admit though, he hoped this went much better than the previous experiences he'd had with dueling at school.  

"What are you all standing around for?  To your seats and pass forth your homework," he barked.

Mandy Brocklehurst spoke up loudly with confusion, "I thought we were going to duel each other today?"  She snapped her gum loudly as she spoke and Harry was surprised Snape hadn't taken points off of Ravenclaw for her disgustingly loud and obnoxious gum chewing.  

Snape silenced her with a glare, which she just shrugged off and joined everyone else in taking their seats.  Finally, as their scrolls on defensive shields were being passed forth, Snape explained, "I do not expect a duel for any of you to last very long.  The first pairing will go today during the last quarter hour of class.  Until then, you should be diligently taking notes."

Grumbling, they all pulled out parchment and quills for a lecture and Snape resorted to his favorite pastime—harassing Harry.  "Potter!  How many different defensive shielding spells are there?" 

Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably by force of habit at being called upon by Snape.  Fortunately, though, he recalled this was not Potions and was actually being asked about something he not only knew but something he knew well and at which he excelled. 

"Unlimited, sir," Harry said.

Snape quirked an eyebrow and turned to another student.  "Miss Patil…of Ravenclaw, tell us, how many defensive shields did you find?"

Padma snuck a sideways glance at Harry as she answered uncertainly, "Two.  I found only two shielding charms."

Snape surveyed Harry coolly and intoned, "So, Potter, you think you know more than the two spells that Miss Patil has uncovered?"

With a very slight apologetic look towards Padma, Harry answered, "Well, yes. She said she only found two _charms.  The question was about defensive shield __spells—not merely charms."  Harry saw several faces fall as they realized they had misinterpreted the assignment from Snape.  Harry had far too much experience with Snape's choice of assignments and wording of questions to not know better than to pay meticulous attention to detail.  _

"Give examples," Snape demanded as he spun and glided back up to the front of the class, towards the blackboard.

Harry began rattling off the different ways to block spells, "Well, there's conjuring objects to block spells, transfiguration of an existing item into something suitable to block a spell, summoning and banishing or animated control of objects to utilize them as interceptive shields against spells…" As Harry ticked off examples of ways to use magic to shield oneself from spells, Snape had begun to make a list on the board.  

Amazingly, the rest of the lecture expounded upon the initial list Harry had made and Snape could not manage to take any single point from Harry.  He did manage, however, to take a few from Ron for not paying attention; Harry didn't have to guess to know that Ron had probably been glaring at either him or Hermione at the time. 

Finally, Snape called a stop to the lecture and the class quickly stowed away their books and notes.  

"Now, the real fun shall begin," Snape said in one of his soft yet deadly whispers that foretold of the promise of his delight to be taken in the impending failures of his pupils.  "One group shall be matched against another group and they shall duel.  The remainder of the class shall observe the contest.  All students shall then write two feet or parchment analyzing the contest, comparing the strategy—or lack thereof-- that failed with the one that succeeded.  

"And of course, as any sixth year student should know, a duel does not end until either a duelist's wand is successfully disarmed and in the possession of their opponent, thus forcing that person to concede defeat or… one opponent is dead." As these rules sunk in, Snape paced a bit before the class with his hands clasped before him.  "I admonish you all from killing any of your opponents," he added flippantly. 

"As a group, the duel is not over until each member of the group has been defeated, either in being disarmed and conceding defeat or in being incapacitated.  The duel shall last until all members of one group have been defeated.  Now, off to the side and we'll clear the room." 

Harry snuck a glance to meet Hermione's raised-brow look as they cleared off their desks and followed Snape's instructions.  "You know, I'm actually getting a bit nervous about this," Hermione said quietly.  Harry silently agreed.

"I didn't realize everyone would be watching," Susan Bones said as she slipped over beside Harry.  Other students seemed to mumbling the same sentiments.  

"Now," Snape hissed as he paced before the class.  "Let's see who shall make fools of themselves first.  Any volunteers?"  The class collectively shrunk in on itself and Hermione stifled a laugh at this.  It didn't escape Snape's notice.  "Ah, Miss Granger…always the first one to raise a hand in class, I'll assume you're just as eager to volunteer now.  Up!"   He jerked a thumb to the open area behind him.  Hermione reluctantly walked out to the dueling space with the other members of her group following behind her, scowling resentfully at her back.

Harry then noticed Snape eyeing him with his usual disdain.  "Tut, tut, we wouldn't wish to force Hogwarts' newest pair of lovers to face off against each other, now would we?" he said with his usual disdain to Harry.  Harry's face burned with mingled embarrassment and irritation as Snape sneered at him and then whirled about and barked, "Weasley!  Your group—up!  You'll face off against Granger's."

The point was not lost on Harry and, from the look on both Ron and Hermione's faces, they also thought Snape's choices were not so coincidental.  Harry saw Hermione quickly gather her group together and then hurriedly conspire with them.  Then Harry noticed the look on Ron's face; if he weren't positive that Hermione could easily win out in a battle with a wand against Ron, Harry would have been seriously concerned for her welfare.  

Ron's group consisted of six other guys—well, one was Morag McDougal, but she was more of a man than most of the other boys in sixth year.  Su Li was there, a Ravenclaw that had just been brought into the DA by Padma the last week; he looked exceedingly nervous and seemed to be inching behind Ron, seeking a place to stay out of the line of fire.  Ernie Macmillan was there, too, and he stood beside Ron, looking very serious and very determined.  Blaise Zabini was in the group, but he sidled off to one corner and was watching his own group members as much as he watched the girls' group arrange themselves.  Zacharias Smith and Anthony Goldstein were nudging each other and laughing.  Harry heard Smith comment about maybe taking it easy on the girls.  

"On my signal…" Snape intoned. 

Harry saw Hermione quick dart off to the side and whisper the command, "Spread out!" to her members.  

Silver sparks erupted from Snape's wand and only a half-second passed before the first spell (Hermione's) was cast and then a barrage of other spells ensued.    Harry could only discern the first few flashes of cast spells before the rest seemed lost in a haze of shrieks, sputtering and smoke.  

Hermione's first spell cast, Harry had recognized as a delayed fogging charm.   He then saw the guys shout out several Disarming Charms and a hex or two (one sounded like Ron).  The girls seemed to have been waiting for this and as soon as the spells flew towards them, Hermione's wall of fog appeared and the girls all conjured up their shield charms.  Several of the boys were hit out of the fog with their own rebounding spells and flew back, losing their wands in the process.  The rest was indiscernible through the fog.

"_Finite Incantatum!" he heard Hermione cry as the noise was dying down._

As the fog cleared away, Parvati cried, "_Expelliarmus_!" as she pointed her wand at Blaise, disarming him easily.  He was the last boy with a wand.

Harry could now see the girls all standing; Lavender holding an extra wand, Parvati held two and Hermione held three.  The boys were all sprawled out, dazed and disarmed.  Morag McDougal looked to have caught a nail lengthening (and curling) hex that made her (him?) now look like an ogre.   Ron looked like he'd been knocked out cold.  Harry imagined it was similar to how he had looked after Ron's roundhouse blow had knocked Harry flat on his back.

Goldstein and Smith were looking around and Hermione called out, "Do you all give in yet?"  The boys all eyed each other uncomfortably but nodded nonetheless.  

Snape dismissed the rest of the class with a wave of his hands and Harry couldn't help but notice Malfoy still lurking sullenly in a corner.  Malfoy had his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed as he coolly observed Hermione as she made her way over to Harry.  

"You were brilliant!" Harry gushed as he grabbed Hermione's arm, walking out of the Defense classroom.  "That '_Proviso Caligo_' charm of yours was absolutely brilliant, Hermione, _brilliant_!"  Hermione could only grin as she glowed from the praise.  

"Blimey!  I can't believe that was over so fast!" Seamus said as he caught up to them as they made their way into the Great Hall for dinner.  Several other sixth years joined in behind them and were gushing on and recounting the duel with each retelling growing more and more exaggerated.  

"Did you see the look on Smith's face when he caught his own spell?  Knocked him arse over tit, it did!"

Harry felt someone lean in to his side and he saw Dean with a pleasantly reminiscing air say, "I don't know about you, but I was sure pleased to see Ron go flying backwards and knock himself out."  Dean rubbed his jaw and said, "Pomfrey said he cracked my jaw and it's _still sore—serves him right."  _

Actually, Harry felt bad for Ron and only now did he realize he didn't even stick around to see that Ron was properly revived before congratulating Hermione on her group's victory.  "Er, where is Ron anyway?" Harry asked as he craned his neck to see around the throng of students and they dispersed to their own tables in the hall.  

Neville answered as he sat across from Harry and Hermione at the Gryffindor table.  "I think Snape was reviving him as we left.  He sent McDougal to the Infirmary to get her hex removed."  

Halfway through the meal, the fifth years joined the table and Ginny threw herself down a few seats away and proclaimed, "Well, I officially love Potions class!  I can't believe what a difference it makes when there isn't a greasy sneering overly lurking git for a teacher!"  

Harry couldn't help but smile at this and wistfully wished he didn't have Snape for his Potions class.  

"So I take it Viktor is a good professor?" Hermione asked, smiling pleasantly.

"Oh, loads better!  It's not even a contest, Hermione!  He actually explains what you have to do before you do it—not just let you go and screw it up and then blame you for not knowing what you didn't even know you never knew in the first place!  Today—I completely pantsed the Strengthening Solutions we were making and he's letting me come back tomorrow evening and do it again!  He even said anyone one else who wanted to try it again could come down to the lab and work on it again for extra credit."  

Dean just shook his head at her and said, "Personally, I am so beyond chuffed that I never have to sit and stir another cauldron in that git's class ever again."

"Hey, so how is that git's NEWT level class?" Seamus asked through a mouthful of potatoes.

"Not so bad so far," Harry answered as he swallowed his mouthful of roast beef.  "He's got us in groups now and we're doing these group projects this term."

"Yeah, we haven't had to brew anything once yet," Neville said, nodding.  

"Really," Hermione said as she held her fork up for emphasis, "he's quite tolerable.  He's letting us all just get on for now. I'm not sure what he's waiting for, but—"

"He's waiting for me to make the teeny tiniest mistake," Harry butted in.

"Oh, Harry," Hermione said as she rolled her eyes.  "He can't berate you like he used to anymore.  You earned your OWL mark and, well, sure, if you were to mess up, he would probably, well…"

"Roast me over a pit, fling me in detention with Filch and petition for my expulsion?" Harry offered, making Hermione just sigh with exasperation, but not argue his point.  Both were oblivious to the looks of amusement they received from their fellow Housemates.

That evening, in the DA, Ron had yet to turn up.  Morag McDougal, now with her hex removed, said that Ron was now in the infirmary and that Pomfrey wanted to keep him there for the night.  Apparently, Ron had tried a blasting hex that, when it rebounded, really did blast him off his feet and cause him to give his head a good knock on the stone floor as he landed.  Morag said Ron had been revived but was being kept in order to monitor his mental faculties.  

On one hand, Harry felt bad for Ron and felt like he should go visit his best friend and bring him Chocolate Frogs.  But, on the other hand, Harry was glad they were not being forced to be within close proximity to each other while in the DA.  

The DA had got to task straight away with work on the Impediment Jinx and then conjuring Shield Charms.   Everyone was very eager to work on the shield that had led to Hermione's group's victory in class.  Halfway through the DA meeting, nearly everyone was still debating and describing the day's earlier duel.  Harry worked quietly with Susan, Daphne and Tracey.   While he and Susan guided the other two to master their new spells, Harry was working with Susan to strengthen her Shield Charm.  Silently, he was also working out some new strategies to be used for when his group was called forth to duel in Snape's class.  

Near the end of the meeting, Harry wandered down the line of members and stopped where Hermione was helping Sloper and Kirke—Ron's two recruits.  "Hey," she said as she saw Harry stop and watch.  "They're all doing fairly well, wouldn't you say?"

Harry smiled at her and nodded.  "Yeah, I think it really helps that everyone has someone to watch them and give them help.  It's going much faster than last year when we were trying to learn all these spells."  

Hermione couldn't help but notice Harry's glum demeanor and nudged him gently as she stood next to him.  "What's eating you?" she asked with concern.

"Ron," was Harry's answer.  He sighed and traced a line across the floor with the tip of his boot.  "I was thinking I could head out of here a few minutes early and see if I could pass by the infirmary.  You know make sure he's…well…you know.  Then again he probably doesn't want to see me."  He sighed again and wished Hermione would volunteer to go with him.  "Would you want to come with?" he asked, trying not to sound too desperate.

Hermione looked up, startled.  "What?  Oh, me?  Well," she laughed shortly, "I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to see me."  Her face hardened once more then as her lips disappeared into a thin line.

Harry looked like he was about to argue but Hermione said, "Harry, he tried to hurl a Blasting Hex at me today!  If it would have landed, it would have surely knocked me out just like it did him!"  She shook her head vigorously, making her hair whip around.  "No way, I'm liable to hex him as soon as I see him."

Harry sighed in defeat and then cocked his head to the side and said, "You know, your shield held up really well today.  Three Disarming Charms and a Blasting Hex—that was a pretty strong shield you put up."

Hermione smiled wryly at him. "Flattery won't get me to go with you.  And besides, I did practice most of the summer against a rather powerful wizard, you don't think that helped me?"

Harry let show a half-grin and said, "Remus would be flattered to hear that."

Hermione playfully shoved him and said, "I'm talking about you, you prat!"  She rolled her eyes at him and he grinned back at her.  "Harry, really, if there's anyone he'll want to see or talk to, it would be you.  Just go."

Harry made his way slowly across the castle and to the hospital wing.  

"What's happened to you, now, Potter?" Madame Pomfrey asked primly as soon as Harry turned to enter the wing. 

"Er, nothing.  I just wanted to see Ron.  Is he all right?" 

Madame Pomfrey eyed him with scrutiny and jerked her head to the left and said, "Over here."  She followed Harry with a hand tightly gripping his shoulder and steered him to an empty table.  "Sit," she commanded.

"What?  No, I'm fine," Harry protested.

"Load of tosh," she said.  "I'm healing that bruise and cut on your face for you now.  The swelling should have gone well down by now and I still see some.  Sit."

There was no point arguing with her and Harry sat silently as she rubbed a stinging topical over his bruise.  He couldn't see much as he had removed his glasses and he closed his eyes as she worked.  

"There, no more fighting.  If you want to see Mr. Weasley, he's back around that curtain and to the right.  Don't stay long, he needs his rest."

Harry replaced his glasses on his face and hopped off the table.  He followed her instructions and wound his way through the curtains.  When he finally got to the bed with the red-haired patient, he saw Ron rolled over onto his side, facing away.  

"Ron?" Harry inquired softly, not sure if he was awake.  He couldn't hear any snoring and he thought he saw Ron intake a sharp breath as he spoke, but there was no answer.  Harry stood there for a few interminable minutes.  He wanted to tell Ron about Percy and about how well the DA meeting went.  He wanted to tell Ron they would still be friends no matter what.  He also wanted to yell at Ron with rage and point out hypocritical it was of Ron to be angry with him for not telling him about he and Hermione when Ron had tried to profess his love to Hermione and never ran that by Harry before hand.  But, still seeing no reaction, he sighed and turned to leave, muttering, "See you later."

"Mail's here," Ginny groaned as she looked up at the influx of owls in the Great Hall during breakfast.  She shot Harry a dark look and then returned to scan the birds.  Harry saw Hedwig flying near and approach to land.  But instead of going to Harry, she went to Ginny.  

That's when Harry recalled Ginny had last used Hedwig to send a letter to her mum and explain the truth of the real romantic pairing of her daughter and surrogate son.  

"Did you send that letter to Rita?" Hermione whispered in Harry's ear as she watched Ginny gingerly untie the letter from Hedwig.  

After noting that thankfully, the letter was not a Howler, Harry turned and whispered back, I used a school owl and yeah, I sent it.  When do you think—"  He shut up when a delivery owl dropped a rolled up paper into Hermione's breakfast dish.  She hurriedly paid the owl and unrolled the morning's edition of The Daily Prophet.  

Harry looked across at Ginny, who was quickly scanning over a letter.  Her face brightened and she said, "Well, everything sounds just brilliant!"  Harry looked dubiously at her. She thrust the letter at Harry and said, "Go on and read it."

_Ginny, _

_We are appalled and embarrassed at your brother's behavior.  I am so sorry he made you feel the need to lie.  Of course, I am disappointed to hear you and Harry are not together.  Harry has always been like a son of my own and I would love to have him as an official member of our family some day.  Of course, you must never give up hope!  _

_Dear, you should tell Harry that we are very happy for him and Hermione, too.  Hopefully she won't toy with his affections like she did a few years ago when that other fellow was around. You let me know if she is not treating Harry well enough and I will have a word with her.  _

_I'm sending another letter to your brother in regards to his behavior.  He should know better how to properly treat his sister and best friend.  Oh, and congratulations on making the House team, dear!  We are ever so proud!_

_Love, Mum and Dad_

"What did you write to her?" Harry asked as he noted the lack of any mention as to Ginny's involvement with someone.

Ginny handed a rind of bacon to Hedwig and shrugged as she said, "I just wrote and told her I was confessing about having lied because Ron was a prat and wouldn't leave me alone because he wanted you and me to get together.  I told her that, although I have enjoyed Ron being off my back, I now had to confess because you were now with Hermione and the news was sure to come out.  Oh, and I also told her how Ron blew up and got a full day of detention for slugging you and another student."  She looked very pleased with herself as Harry goggled at her.  

"You didn't mention Dean in any of this?" he asked incredulously.

She shook her head as Hedwig hopped over to peruse the buffet on Harry's plate.  "Nuh-uh, why should I?  She only has to know that you and I aren't together.  Plus, I deflected any anger on to Ron.  She's got the worst Weasley temper of us all," she said as she grinned evilly.  

Harry just shook his head at her and felt another pang of guilt for Ron's predicament.  Pushing away these thoughts, Harry turned to Hermione and asked, "Is it in there?" as Hermione was closely reading an article on the front page.  She looked up for a moment, her face darkened, and held the paper in front if her, not letting Harry see it just yet as she finished reading.  

"Yes," she said finally as she apparently finished.  She then folded the paper over and back and said, "It's in here--eventually," and laid it in front of Harry.

_HARRY POTTER: THE BOY WHO'S IN LOVE_

_Exclusive Interview by Rita Skeeter_

_Through slander, ridicule, and the rise of his parents' notorious murderer, it seems Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, has indeed, found solace.  Sources from within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as well as correspondence with Potter himself, have confirmed that he has openly announced he is now the Boy Who Loves.  That's right, as this reporter first uncovered nearly two years ago, Potter has now officially confirmed __his affections have always belonged to best friend and fellow Gryffindor student, Hermione Granger. _

_Granger is a muggleborn student and one of the academically most gifted students at Hogwarts in recent time, according to OWL marks filed with the Wizarding Examination Authority.  Also, it was Granger's muggle home, over which the Dark Mark was found this past August after servants of You-Know-Who destroyed the property.  No deaths or injuries were reported from this incident but it seems her status as a top student and being of muggleborn heritage was the motive.  Now, with the news that she is indeed romantically linked to the Boy Who Lived, one must wonder whether she is prepared to withstand further antipathy for her connection to Potter. _

_In regards to the muckraking endured last year, Harry Potter, through exclusive correspondence with this reporter, has issued a statement that he does not hold any grudges against the current Minister, Cornelius Fudge nor his Ministry staff.  Unnamed members of the Ministry led a smear campaign against, Potter and Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore in the wake of their claim of the return of You-Know-Who.  _

_Potter offers this statement in anticipation of the Ministry press conference that is currently being arranged with Prophet officials to offer a forum for the Ministry's publicly issued statement of apology and contrition.   _

_Ministry officials have been busy arranging this Press event for the past week, giving rise to speculation as to whether this is also to be an award ceremony for Dumbledore and Potter.  Both wizards were present at the Ministry skirmish that resulted in the capture of nearly a dozen Death Eaters—six of which were Azkaban escapees with sizable rewards for their capture.           _

_The Ministry's lack of issuance of these rewards has been another cause for speculation.  Traditionally, rewards are bestowed in a manor of a public ceremony and are often accompanied by the bestowment of an honorary Title of Order.  _Potter's role in the capture of the escapees has not been made clear other than the statement that he had been lured to the Ministry that evening through the plotting of Death Eaters serving You-Know-Who.  The Ministry has thus far given credit to the capture of the Death Eaters to Dumbledore as well as Ministry Aurors Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt, however, neither rewards nor honorary ceremonies have been planned to date for any one of these individuals. __

_This reporter wonders whether the absence of rewards might be indicative of a monetary dip on Ministry resources.  One must wonder whether the effects of exposing long-time Ministry Finance Authority official Lucius Malfoy, a now known and incarcerated servant of You-Know-Who, has crippled the Ministry's economic welfare.  The current Ministry has refused to comment on the assessment of Malfoy's former positioning and possible detrimental ramifications incurred by the Ministry.  _

_If, as this reporter is beginning to suspect, the Ministry is indeed in fiscal straights, then the timing could not be more debilitating.  The Ministry is in full mobilization in anticipation of the onslaught of terrorization at the hands of You-Know-Who.     _

_The Ministry is preparing to nearly double the existing Auror forces according to statistics from the Isle of Wight's Auror Training Center.  Defense aid has also been contracted, according to Minister Fudge, with the Ministries of France, Bulgaria, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, and Finland.  However, with the Ministry funds scraping the bottom of the vault, Fudge may be asking for favors and not contracted aid.  _

_Scheduling details regarding the impending public apology from Ministry Fudge shall be forthcoming according to Ministry spokespersons and will be published when known._

Harry's face had begun to scowl as he read the article.  But, as he read on and through the section that had been the purpose of his correspondence with Rita, he began to nod along.  

"Well," he said as he finished it and chewed the inside of his cheek, considering it. "It's not too bad.  If you hack off all that bit at the beginning and the ridiculous headline, I guess she finally gets to the point."  He scowled at the article and Hermione grabbed it back, not looking at him.  

He glanced up at the head table as Hedwig nipped at a slice of toast from Harry's plate.  Dumbledore looked up and gave him a twinkly half smile and nod.  

Harry glanced back at Hermione who was folding the paper back up and tucking it away, along with her books that had been out.  "Where are you going?" he asked as he hurriedly stood up to follow her and grabbed the piece of toast from Hedwig, who hooted with indignation at having her breakfast stolen from her beak.  "Wait up!"

Hermione darted off and into one of the girls' toilets, without a glance back at Harry.  

In Transfiguration class that morning, Harry asked her, "Are you upset about the article?"  

She only shook her head and continued on, taking her tidy and detailed notes.  

On the way to Charms he asked her, "Are you upset with Rita?"  

Her curt answer was, "No," as she shook her mane back and marched forth into the classroom.

After nearly an hour of silence during lunch as she sat with a huge tome entitled _Endlessly Enchanting Enchantments, _Harry was really starting to think it might be him with whom she was upset. It couldn't be the article, no, if anything, it was _he_ that had a right to be upset about that article and how it made him out to be The Boy Who Loves.  "Are you mad at me?" he asked almost shyly.

Hermione looked up for a brief moment then went back to her book.  "I'm not mad," she said.

"Well then it has to be the article because you were perfectly fine before this morning," Harry stated, watching her closely for a reaction.

"Why would you think I'm not fine?" Hermione asked lightly, still not looking up from her reading.

Harry let out an exaggerated sigh and said, "Well, because you've been acting like you're anything _but_ fine.  Just tell me what it is!"  She was never like this to him and he couldn't figure out what the deal was with her mood.  If you added yelling and lecturing to this, then it would be just like when Ron would set her off.  But this was Harry and Hermione; they didn't fight.

Hermione looked like she was trying to prevent several statements from issuing forth from her mouth and she carefully maintained a neutral expression.  "Tell me, Harry, are _you_ upset about the article this morning?" 

"Me?" Harry asked, confused.  

"You," she said as her eyes narrowed ever so slightly as her mouth pulled into a thin line.  He knew that wasn't good.

"Was I upset by it?" he mused as he scratched his head and ran a hand through his hair, causing it to fluff up even more.  "Well, I guess she did get the job done with the stuff about Fudge.  I--I can't complain too much there.  She actually tied it in to speculation about Malfoy and that was a rather clever move."  Harry scowled slightly and then just shook his head as he said, "But why she had to go and lead off with that _tripe_ about my love life was unnecessary."

"Tripe," Hermione said in a tight voice.

"Tripe," Harry reiterated, still shaking his head.

Suddenly Harry was left alone again, standing outside a girls' toilet and wondering just how in the world a girl's mind actually worked.  

"Good to see you, Harry, good to see you.  Let's go for a walk today," Dumbledore led Harry back down the spiral staircase and up a flight to the third floor.  "I see your arrangement with Rita is still in fine condition.  I was an excellent article," he said conversationally after Harry refused the offer of a lemon sherbet.

"Excellent?" Harry said as he walked along and kept his eyes to the stone floor.  "I'm not so sure it was excellent."

"Oh?" Dumbledore said in that way that somehow, after just a few pressing moments of silence, compelled a person to spill all their thoughts right out into the open.

"She could have stuck to the business of the article.  She had that ridiculous headline--who's going to want to read that?" Harry said plaintively. 

Dumbledore merely nodded as he sucked on his lemon sherbet and led them further into an often-neglected part of the castle.  "I think you underestimate your appeal to the public, Harry."

Anything else Harry was going to say was lost when Dumbledore opened an old wooden door.  The large corridor that lay beyond the door was immediately recognizable to Harry.  There in the center of the large and dusty space was a wide trapdoor that, Harry clearly recalled, a gigantic three-headed dog named Fluffy had once guarded.  

Memories of a long-ago trip through that trapdoor flooded back into his mind.  He, Ron and Hermione--all young and ready to take on the world--jumping recklessly down the chute and trusting that whatever came their way, was sure to be conquerable, just as long as they were together.  

"Do you recall where we are, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he watched Harry soaking in the sight of the room and the memories it held.  

"Yes," Harry said, barely above a whisper.

"Well, I've had Mister Filch move an old trunk into here and in it, I have trapped a Boggart that was found in this room.  We are ready to move to a new stage of your mastery of Occlumency, Harry."  Harry quit gaping about the room and eyed the trunk warily.  

"Now, we'll go for about an hour for today.  Would you rather stand or be seated?" Dumbledore asked.  

"Stand, I think," Harry said, still eyeing the trunk that sat silently beneath a dusty, tall, arching window.  

Dumbledore drew himself a squishy armchair and settled himself into it and then said, "Very well, now, your task is to simply close your mind to the Boggart. Let no thought come forth that the Boggart might use to take form.  The Boggart, without a thought with which to take form, is but vapor and smoke.  

"As I open the trunk, I will cast a charm around the trunk to keep the Boggart within the confines of the charm.  Also, as you settle into your closed-off mind, you will begin to feel the ability to think behind the veil upon your thoughts.  

"Eventually, this will become instinctive and you will be able to easily project forth images, feelings, and thoughts very quickly and proficiently through your veil.  Today, we will just concentrate on maintaining your block.  But, I daresay, you will grow bored with it and your mind will naturally wish to wander. This is where discipline is imperative.  Do you have any questions, Harry?"

Harry shook his head and shook out his arms as he narrowed his eyes at the unassuming trunk.  

"Remember, Harry, no wand is needed."  Harry slipped his wand back into the sleeve of his robe and into its holster.  "Your mind is all that is needed to control it.  Are you ready?"  Harry nodded and Dumbledore pointed his wand at the trunk, creating a large glass-like bubble that encased the trunk.  He then flicked his wand again and the trunk lid creaked open and back.  

It seemed like a very long hour as Harry eventually sat himself onto the dusty floor and worked to maintain the brick wall within his head.  Occasionally, he would see the flicker of a shape gathering from within the mist, but he was adept at quickly putting up his block.  It was true that he did get bored rather quickly as soon as he realized he wouldn't be seeing a Dementor or a succession of his dead and murdered friends.  He eventually amused himself by mentally thinking about playing behind the tall brick wall in his mind.  In his mind, he was still a young boy and every bit a muggle, playing alone beside a brick wall of his school; happy to not be around Dudley or his gang and content to just be alone.  

A day and half later, as Harry followed a sauntering Lavender and Parvati into Defense Against the Dark Arts, Hermione was still being cool towards him.  After Hermione announced she was going to bed early the previous night and only bid Harry good night with the wave of her hand, Seamus had muttered something about it probably being that time of the month for her and that Harry couldn't be expected to understand the moods and mysterious ways of witches.  The only good thing about it had been that Ron, sitting near Harry and the other sixth year boys for the night, although still not talking to anyone, seemed at least a tad gleeful that Hermione was not spending any time with Harry.  

"Assignments to the front!" Snape droned as he stalked into the classroom.  "Open your texts to page two-hundred and twelve.  We will be learning about and demonstrating the use of counter curses."  Snape glanced down at an open book upon his desk; Harry recognized it as the leather covered lesson plan from Dumbledore.  "I will need two volunteers," he hissed as his beetle-black eyes raked across the room.  "Misters…Malfoy and…let's see…hmm, yes, Longbottom!  Up to the front!  You will assist in demonstrating the proper countering spells as…let's see, Miss Abbot reads from the text."

Neville looked unsure as he eyed the smirking Malfoy.  

"Are we just demonstrating the spells in the air, sir, or on each other?" Malfoy drawled, not taking his smirking glare off of Neville.    Snape just allowed his upper lip to curl in answer.

As Hannah began to read, it became apparent that this was much more that a simple and boring lecture.  As she recited a new class of curse, Malfoy had begun to cast a representative curse at Neville.  Neville lost five points from Gryffindor the first time when he reflexively conjured his Shield Charm to block the spell.  

But it only took twice before Neville realized he was in for a competition of drawing and casting the spells to avoid being the one getting cursed.  In fact, as the class progressed, there was cheering and clapping from three of the houses as Neville began to steadily out draw and out curse Malfoy.   The cheering was loudest (and mixed with several laughs) when Malfoy performed the incorrect counter curse on himself after being on the receiving end of a Babbling Curse.  Instead of ceasing the babbling, he started to sputter and foam at the mouth.  

"That will be all," Snape intoned as he rose from his position of leaning against the wall and watching impassively.  "Clear the room for today's duel," he instructed.  

Harry caught Hermione's eye a few times during Neville's display up front and he had nearly forgot she was being moody with him as she smiled and watched Neville with the same pride that Harry felt.  As they moved to the side of the room and banished the desks, Harry tried to nudge her and get a smile from her but she seemed to remember that she wasn't happy with him as soon as she met his eyes.  

"Move into your groups so I might see just whom it is that shall be fated to blunder before us," Snape said silkily as he unfurled his arms, looking like a great black bat, and then crossed them grimly across his chest.  

There were only six groups in the class and two had already faced each other.  That left four and--

"Thomas!  Abbot!  Boot!  Cornfoot, Entwhistle, Hopkins and Fletchly!"  Snape barked the name of each student in the group standing in the center, causing them to hurry out and into the now-cleared space.  

It was the group that consisted solely of muggleborn students.  Silently, Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione as he hoped they weren't meant to square off against the group now referred to (by the rest of the class) as the Death Eater's Spawn.  

Speaking of which, Malfoy could be seen now making some snide comment, causing Crabbe and Goyle to snigger appreciatively.  The grubby looking Nott boy just scratched himself unattractively.  Pansy Parkinson eyed the group in the center of the room with a smirk and Millicent Bulstrode just glared back at anyone who dared to look at her.  

Much to Harry's relief, Snape then walked over to the group containing Neville, Padma, Seamus, Michael Corner, Lisa Turpin and some kid named Moon-something-or-other.  Without a word he jerked his thumb over his shoulder and watched them scurry around him and out into the open to face off against their opponents.  

The only word to describe this contest was chaos.  Complete and utter chaos.  

It was abundantly clear that both groups had a large repertoire of hexes, jinxes and curses and they were both eager to show them off.  It was actually entertaining to watch at first.  Lisa Turpin's hair turned into snakes and she fell to the ground screaming.  Padma tried to get her to hold still enough to perform the counter curse but got hit with a stray Jelly Legs Jinx while her attention was diverted.  This caused her to land on top of Lisa and then both girls were screaming.  Justin Finch-Fletchly was Stunning everything that moved (Harry had to duck to avoid one of his rather overeager flashes of red light).  Unfortunately, at least two of his Stunners had been deflected back and had struck his own members.  It seemed to be an excellent demonstration about just how difficult it is to revive your allies while performing counter spells on yourself and still fending off more blows from opponents.  

About ten minutes into the duel, Hermione looked over and asked Harry, "You do know what this means, don't you?"

Keeping one eye out for any stray spells, Harry turned to look at her and hopefully said, "That you're now speaking with me again?"  Harry shuddered as he saw the stunned body of some Ravenclaw get hit with a Crusting Boil Hex.  

"It means," Hermione went on speaking as if he hadn't said anything at all, "that next class, you'll be facing off against the only other group not to have been picked."  She watched Harry suddenly turn and stare at her, dart his eyes towards Malfoy and his cronies and then back to Hermione.  "Yup," she said with a smug smile.

Harry turned back to watch the rest of the chaos with a numb feeling.  It wasn't that he didn't think he could beat Malfoy in a duel; no, he definitely thought he could do that.  But it was Malfoy's group of six against his group of four.  Plus the fact that Malfoy was certainly intelligent enough to deduce the class's next duel match up just as Hermione had pointed it out.  That meant Malfoy and company would be planning and scheming, no doubt willing to play dirty, until it was time for them to meet.  

The bell rang, signally the end of class and Snape sent a shower of sparks out and amongst the still dueling students.  "That would be a draw," he announced.  "Consider yourselves all inept and losers.  Two feet from everyone on why everyone who dueled is an incompetent and unskilled dunderhead!"

"Harry," Susan Bones said hurriedly as she grabbed Harry's arm on the way out the door, "You know what this means?"  

Harry nodded knowingly at her.  "Next week--"

"Next week, Potter!!"  Malfoy shoved his way past Harry and turned to block his way.  With his face contorted with hatred, Malfoy snarled out, "Next week, _you'll get yours_, Potty!"

"Gin, help me, I need help and you're a girl," Harry whined as Hermione left without a word to him after the DA meeting.  

Ginny looked at Harry with amusement.  Dean joined her and shook his head at Harry's predicament. "She's still sore at you, mate?" Dean asked.

Harry rolled his eyes and waved his arms and Ginny giggled at him.  He glared at her, silencing her giggles.  "What did I do?" Harry pleaded with Ginny to tell him.  Hermione was being very civil to him but she rebuffed any move he made to joke with her and shrugged him off if he even thought about touching her.  

Ginny looked at him closely for a minute; Harry made sure to look as pathetic and clueless as possible.  Ginny sighed.  "Fine, but I never said a word."  Harry grinned and looked at her expectantly.  "It was the article, Harry."

"Huh?  No--she said she wasn't upset about the article," Harry waved that aside.  "It has to be something else."

Ginny shook her head.  "No Harry it was the article and your reaction to it."  Harry looked confused.  So did Dean as he watched on, mystified.  Ginny urged him to think with a rolling motion of her hands. "Harry, think about how you reacted to the article and what you told her you didn't like about it."  Ginny waited for Harry to think.

"The part about how I'm The Bloody Boy Who Loved?" He asked, still confused and sore about it.  Ginny nodded encouragingly.  "What about it?"

"Harry!" Ginny cried as she grabbed her head with both hands.  "You told her it was tripe-- that it was over the top and ridiculous!"  

"Well of course, Rita had no right to print that stuff--"

"That's not the point!" Ginny stomped her foot and grabbed Harry by the shoulders.  "Listen. To. Me.  Most everyone thought the article was very tasteful--especially for Rita.  Hermione told me that the real purpose of the article was to make that statement about Fudge as a favor to Dumbledore, but really, Harry-- you _had_ to know that the news about you officially having an girlfriend would be news?  Especially now that you're everyone's favorite boy, again!"  

"I don't see your point," Harry said blankly.

Ginny smacked her forehead and said, "Harry, don't you _love_ Hermione?!"  Harry's eyes flew wide and Ginny's flew even wider when she saw Harry's reaction.  "Oh my god, you two have told each other you love each other by now, have you?"

Harry felt heat in his cheeks and gaped for a moment before snapping his mouth shut.  "What does that have to do with anything?" he asked tightly and looking anywhere but at Ginny.

"Harry," Ginny said in a very clam voice, as if she were explaining something very complex to a very young child.  "The article said you were in love with Hermione.  The headline called you 'The Boy Who Loves'.  It stated Hermione was a top student and a muggleborn.  It stated all facts--unless the part about you being in love is not a fact."  

Harry couldn't begin to fathom what she was telling him.  "So Harry, when you called the part about you and Hermione _'tripe'_ and _'ridiculous'_, you were really telling her that some part of the article was false!  Seeing as how all things stated in it are facts with evidence to support them, but only one is even _close_ to subjective; and that's the claim that you love her!

"Hermione--she has _no choice_ but to think you're either upset because Rita lied and you _don't_ love Hermione or that you're embarrassed to have people think or know that you _do_ love her.  It's really very simple, Harry. And before you go off and think you know how you feel, I'll tell you this: I know for a fact that you do love her."  Ginny finished and crossed her arms and looked intently at Harry before pulling Dean away and leaving Harry alone in the vacant Room of Requirement.  


	27. Chapter 30 The Duel

 Chapter 30. The Duel

He tried to write a letter but it sounded awkward and just felt wrong, so it ended up burnt to ashes when he dispiritedly muttered, "_Incendio_."  The next three attempts at writing down his feelings followed the same route.  He even tried asking the Room of Requirement to give him the answer, but apparently, the room could not fix teenaged relationships. 

Throughout Healing the next day, Harry kept looking at Hermione, trying, searching, for anything to say to make up for how he had made her feel—no—was _still_ making her feel.  He felt awful; like the worst friend, much less boyfriend, anyone could ever have.  He didn't deserve her.  She deserved more.  Remus had given Harry a definition of love as someone you would die for, rather than let die.  By all means, that described Hermione.  And Ron, and Remus, and all the Weasleys and–well, obviously he wasn't _in love with all of them.  _

Could he even admit it or want to admit it if he was?  _Neither can live while the other survives…  If being in love wasn't living then Harry couldn't imagine what was.  He may not have much experience with it but he'd heard enough from books, other people, and any film he'd ever caught a glimpse of…they all seemed to think being in love was the ultimate in living.  But Harry wasn't _meant_ to be living.  Not now.  It just wasn't meant to be._

He felt compelled to gaze upon her during lunch, quickly returning his eyes to his own plate of barely-touched food if she were to glance up and catch him staring.  What was he playing at?  Of course he—no!  No, he couldn't admit that, not now…maybe someday, but not now.  To admit that would be to live and to live would be to go against the fate that was his.  As long as he didn't think of it that way, then he was safe; then she was safe.  They were safe.  

Care of Magical Creatures was next and Harry hadn't been looking forward to it much.  He, Ron and Hermione were in the very small class and seeing as how none of them were really talking to each other, it promised to be a truly remarkable class.  

What with each Ron, Harry and Hermione trying to hang around at the lunch table as long as possible to avoid having to sit and wait near each other by Hagrid's while waiting for class to begin, they all ending up making the silent trek across the grounds together.  As they neared the paddock where class was normally held, they saw Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent Bulstrode, that one Ravenclaw and Smith standing around and waiting.  

"Harry!  Hermione and Ron!"  Hagrid was rushing out of his cabin a short distance away and waving a letter as he hurried towards the trio.  Hagrid's face was flushed (what you could see of it anyway) and his black eyes were sparkling as he waved to the crumpled piece of parchment.  "I jus' got the best news!  Yeh lot won't ever guess what it is—go on and try!"  Hagrid's cheer made it impossible for Harry not to grin at his big friend, that is, until Harry realized just what kind of news could make Hagrid so happy.  _Oh no, if he's getting a dragon, then **I'm going to drop the class, Harry thought.**_

"Er, Hagrid," Hermione said, smiling slightly at him and glancing at the other students waiting for class to start.  "Don't we have a class today?  It's about to start."  Harry checked his watch; it was starting right now and he glanced around, seemingly waiting for a dragon to jump out in front of them, but thankfully, he saw absolutely no magical creatures for class at all.  He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.  

"Oh, er, righ'" Hagrid said, his smile faltering a bit.  He looked at Hermione and grinned again, "I know yer always reading ahead and I'm right sure you can tell the class all they need to know today if they ask."

"Er, what are we studying today, Hagrid?" Harry asked warily.  

Hagrid darted a look at the paddock and sniffed as he said, "Demiguises.  But I need to go and see Dumbledore.  Might be leaving soon."  Hagrid grinned but Harry definitely wasn't happy to hear this.  The disappointment in his face must have shown for Hagrid smiled down at him and said, "Don't worry, I'm not going back to where I was last year.  And I just got the best o' news!"

"What about class?" Hermione asked.

"Oh right, well, yeh'll just all set down and observe them; there's two of 'em.  See you later!"  Hagrid started off with long strides towards the castle leaving Harry, Ron and Hermione staring at the empty paddock.  

Ron spoke for all of them, as he spoke up for the first time in a week and said, "We're supposed to sit around for three hours and observe an invisible creature?  Is he mad?!"

The rest of the class seemed to agree when Hermione told them what Hagrid had said they should do for the class.  The Ravenclaw, Entwhistle was his name, seemed happy to do this and even climbed over the fence and sat himself down, rolling open a fresh page of parchment, on which to take notes.  Millicent Bulstrode commented that she doubted there was even anything in the paddock.  Inwardly, Harry agreed.  

They sat down upon the lawn on the knoll giving them a view down into the paddock.  Of all the days to have a class of three hours with nothing to actually do, Harry couldn't believe their luck that it had to be a day like this when they weren't even on speaking terms.  

"Some class, eh?" Zacharias Smith said as he wandered over to the trio and seated himself.  "You reckon we can just leave here and he'd never know the better?"

Harry shook his head but Hermione spoke his words when she said, "No, Hagrid would know and he wouldn't be happy.  Besides, look, there's an island of luscious greens in the center of the paddock.  We'll probably be able to see them feeding, or, well," she frowned.  "At least see the shrubbery being eaten."  Harry thought he almost saw Ron smirk at this.  

After more than a half-hour of pointlessly staring at nothing at all in complete silence, albeit, with Smith's oddly questioning looks and heavy sighs, Harry had already decided that if he still hadn't managed to mend this rift with Hermione by her birthday next week, he was going to have to get one dandy of a gift.  _In fact, I'd best get it decided and ordered post haste if I want to have it in time_.

"Hey," Smith said as he sat up and paused in his endeavour to shred blades of grass into nothing, "bet I know what that lot's up to."  He jerked his head towards the three Slytherins sitting almost completely on the opposite side of the paddock.  

Harry looked and saw Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent sitting as three great lumps huddled around something like a piece of parchment and conversing animatedly.  Goyle (or was it Crabbe?) was leaning forward and gesticulating wildly and then Harry saw Crabbe crane his beefy neck and look over towards them, then glance back hastily.  

Smith went on to explain, even though no one had inquired.  "Heard them talking on the way down here.  Rumour has it they've been working up some great plan to take the great Harry Potter down a notch in next week's duel in Snape's class."  Smith seemed to be watching Harry for a reaction.

Oh yes, _that_ duel.  Harry really was not looking forward to this.  His group was outnumbered nearly two-to-one and he wasn't on good terms with either of his best friends whom he would normally count on to help him work through a plan of his own.  The previous evening in the DA meeting, Harry's group had all agreed they would need to work out some strategy.  But regrettably, Harry had assured them that when they met on Saturday afternoon, he would have a plan in progress.  So far he had nothing.

"Betting has the odds split so far," Smith said casually, still panning for a reaction. 

Hermione whipped her head towards him and glared as she asked in a low dangerous voice "What did you say about betting?"

Smith seemed unconcerned as he explained; "Oh sure, Anthony's been taking flutters on the contest.  He's got at least two—maybe three dozen."

"Anthony Goldstein?" Hermione said incredulously.  Smith nodded and she scowled with disgust and said, "He's a _Prefect_!  He ought to know that betting in _not acceptable behavior!"  She snapped her mouth shut, and just went back to whatever it was she had been ardently writing about.  _

Smith gaped at her for a moment and then turned to Ron and said, "What's eating her?"  Ron just shrugged and Smith turned to Harry and asked, "So?  Do you have a plan yet to take them all down?"

Harry just pulled his knees up towards him, rested his elbows upon them and rested his chin upon his hands as he lied and said, "Of course."

Smith looked surprised at Harry's confident answer and he sat up straight.  He checked his watch and looked towards the castle before saying, "Well, I think I should head back.  You know, not seeing much here are we?"  He then hastily got up and nearly trotted back up to the castle; no doubt to either change his wager to Harry winning or increase his wager if he had already hedged his bet on Harry.

After a brief silence as Harry, Ron and Hermione were left alone; Hermione cocked her head to the side and asked Harry, "Do you?  Have a plan already, I mean?"

Harry let out a sigh and just shook his head.  "Nope."

Hermione let her mouth gape as she stared at Harry.  

Before she could even lecture him on how he really ought to be working on some plan to ensure he didn't end up cursed and hexed into the hospital wing, Harry rushed out: "I have no idea what I'm supposed to plan against a group of all Slytherins who plot and scheme for a living.  My group is woefully inept in several of the basics—Tracey can't manage a Shield Charm for more than five seconds and that other girl—

"Daphne," Hermione offered.

"—Daphne, thanks.  She constantly questions everything I suggest anyway so I don't know if I would even be able to propose a plan to her and trust that she'd go along.  Who am I supposed to work out a plan with?  Susan has already said she hasn't clue and no one in my group volunteered to help me—they all think I'm just around to always save the day!  So, of course, what do I do?  I'm the idiot who tells them I'll have a plan worked out by tomorrow.  But do I have anything?  No!"  He turned to look at Ron and then Hermione.  "No, I'm sitting here constantly feeling miserable because I've gone and set off my two best friends.  _You're the ones I'd be planning with!" _

Harry looked up and Hermione and set his face as he said, "I've gone and been an insensitive cad with you and hurt your feelings by not even thinking about what I was saying and how you might take it."  He turned to face Ron and said, "And you, I don't even feel like I would know how to ask for forgiveness for what we made you find out in the worst possible way ever.   There are so many things I want to tell you but you won't even look at me."  Ron was indeed, still laying back and staring up at the clouds with his arms folded behind his head.  

"You think I don't want to give Malfoy a lesson and wipe that perpetual smirk off his face?  You think I don't want to stuff it right in Snape's greasy gob that his favorite little Slytherins got beat by the smallest and weakest group?  I haven't got a clue how I'm supposed to do this!" Harry almost wailed as he threw himself back onto the grass in frustration.

A few moments of anxious silence passed after Harry's rant and then Hermione lay back on the grass, mimicking Ron and Harry.  They were all staring up at the sky, watching clouds pass over the afternoon sun.  Then Ron spoke with a determined edge to his voice, "I'm still not happy with either of you but I'll be damned if I want that ferret Malfoy to win."

Harry couldn't help but grin up at the sky.  Harry then felt a hand of Hermione's reach over discreetly and squeeze his.  "I…you still…I mean…we still need to…you know"  Harry looked over to see Hermione biting her lip, pondering what to say.   She caught his eye and smiled and said, "Of course I'll help you, Harry."

Harry sat up quickly and looked between Ron and Hermione and couldn't help the grin from spreading across his face as he said, "Malfoy won't know what hit him if we work on this together."

Hermione sat up, closely followed by Ron doing the same.  She flipped open a field notebook to a fresh page and moved her inkwell in front of her and recovered her quill.  "Ok, let's work on this plan," she said with a grin as she pulled out her wand and muttered a spell while charming the page to appear blank to anyone who would see it but them.

"What's the password?" Harry asked as she finished.  

Hermione shook her head.  "This one's not password protected.  It's a variation on the Fidelius Charm I've been working on.  I have to tell you what is on the page before you'll be able to see it.  Of course, as you both are here as I'm writing it, you'll be able to see it."

Ron quipped, "So it'll just look like you're sketching the Demiguises?"  

Hermione grinned and Harry laughed.  "Exactly," she said.  She then turned all business and asked Harry, "Have you thought about using one of the obscuring charms or fog like I did?"

Harry shook his head, "No, those are easy to Vanish once cast and I'm sure they'll have looked that up.  Too predictable."

"What about using your Invisibility Cloak?" Ron suggested, all memory of their rifts laid aside.

"No," Harry said.  "I don't want it to be public knowledge that I own one.  Plus, I think Fred and George mentioned once that it's actually on Filch's list of banned items.  Using it in class would give Snape a chance to confiscate it."

Ron's face grew bright and he said, "Maybe we can write Fred and George and ask them to send a couple of pranks to use!  Something that would knock 'em out before they even started—we could even tell them about it and see what they can send!"

"Yeah, that is a good idea," Harry said as Hermione nodded along and kept writing the ideas down. "Maybe we could get some fake wands and use a switching spell to swap them with their real wands?" he proposed.  

After a long string of brainstorming, Hermione chewed her lip and said, "There might be one problem in just making an offensive plan of our own, though."  She looked over at the still huddled three Slytherins and said, "We don't know what they are planning to do first—their plans may blow these all to bits before you can even get started."

"Well then," Ron said thoughtfully, "we need to ensure we know what their plans are."

"Easier said than done, mate," Harry commented, wishing he had an Extendable Ear or two.  

"We need to think like a Slytherin," Ron said as he punched one fist into his other palm.  "If you were Malfoy, what would you do?"

Harry shrugged and said, "Simple, I'd spy on us once he knows we're planning and then try to find out what we're planning."

"Maybe one of those Slytherin girls in your group can get their plans!?" Ron suggested.

Harry shook his head.  "Nah, I think they're kind of outcasts as it is in their House."

"Hold on," Ron said slowly, "maybe we don't need to get their plans at all.  _Maybe_, we just need to let them happen upon _your_ plans, Harry!"

Harry frowned and looked dubiously at Ron.  

"Not your _real_ plan, Harry, but a _feint!  A red herring to throw them off!  Think about it—we write up this whole big fake plan and then, say, __accidentally let someone see it or leave it somewhere or something so they just _happen_ to find it!  You know it's just the chance they'd be waiting for as soon as they knew there was a plan to find!  Then—__then, we know what it is they _think_ we're going to do and we can lure them into feeling they can plan to derail our own plan.  But __really, our plan is not that at all, the fake plan will be a trap!"_

Harry slowly worked it back and forth in his mind and then marvelled at Ron's idea.  It was brilliant; simple, yet brilliant.  

"Brilliant, Ron," Hermione breathed out, having paused in her frantic writing as Ron had came up with their plan.  

After much debate about just how to go about planning their plan or, plans, Harry checked his watch and saw it was well past the end of class and that he had to get moving to make it back to the castle in time for the third years' Defense class.  "I need to get going, class in about 10 minutes.  Can we work on this later?"

Ron looked up from his ramblings about plans and strategies, looking slightly disappointed at Harry's announcement.  "Yeah, after dinner then?" he asked.

_Order Meeting tonight after dinner_, Harry thought.  "Er, well, there's…well, I've some other news for you."  He felt Hermione watching him closely as he formulated his answer quickly.  "Er, it has to do with all us getting a chance to do something for the Order, but I don't have time right now to go into it.  I'll be busy after dinner with something to do with that, but I should be back to the Common Room by at least ten."  They were all standing now and beginning to walk towards the castle.  

"Well," Ron frowned, "can't you tell me anything about it?"

Harry saw Hermione start to open her mouth and he shot her a look, thinking it would be best for now if Ron didn't know she knew all about everything already.  Harry then craned his neck around and saw other students drifting out of the castle and enjoying the warm autumn afternoon.  "I don't want to talk about it out here; too many people."

"I don't think you should eat anything, Harry," Hermione whispered as Harry sat down to dinner.

"Why not?" he said as his stomach growled, echoing his sentiments.  His third years had been extra inquisitive today and had asked question after question while revising their second year course material.  It was all he could do to have refrained from casting a jinx upon them all to wipe the mouth off the face of the next person to begin a sentence with 'why'.

Hermione threw a dark look towards the Slytherin table against the far wall.  Harry looked over, past the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables, and saw Malfoy and his gang all eyeing Harry and seemingly waiting for something.  "They might have hexed your food or something," Hermione suggested.  "Maybe a latent jinx on it that won't show up until your duel on Tuesday."

Harry groaned in frustration but she did have a point and their watching was making him suspect something was up.  "Here," Hermione said, pulling something out her bag.  She handed Harry a Chocolate Frog surreptitiously under the table and said, "Here, eat this and let them see you eating but not what it is.  There's food later at the meeting, they had a buffet out last week for the others.  You can wait until then."    
  


"You're here early," Remus commented, looking more tired and weary than usual as he swallowed a mouthful of food.  Harry vaguely recalled it being only a few days past the full moon.

"So are you," Harry said as he headed strait for the table and filled a plate.  When Remus looked at him questioningly, Harry explained, "Slytherins—they seemed a little too interested in watching me at dinner tonight.  Thought it would be best to just avoid eating out there all together."  Remus nodded with a wry smile that said he understood all too well.

"Do you know if Fred and George are going to be here tonight?" Harry asked between bites.  

Remus shook his head.  "Not tonight; it seems their business is best on Friday evenings; people like to stock up on the party jokes before the weekend.  Did you need something?"

Harry nodded and told Remus about the duels they were having in Defense Against the Dark Arts and about his impending match up.  Remus seemed thoughtful as he listened to Harry's ramblings about the class thus far.  

"And you say they don't end until all one side has conceded?" Remus asked.

Harry nodded, "Yup."

Remus frowned and said, "Well, you have to give old Severus credit.  He's really stuck you in a bind now.  Do you go all out and duel with all you've got and go until you manage to force all those, including Malfoy, to actually say they give in?  Or, do you hold your hand close to yourself, give an admirable effort using the skills and abilities everyone knows you already have and then swallow your pride and concede before you allow them to force you to tip your hand of all the skills you really do have?  It's a real pickle, " Remus said thoughtfully, watching Harry.

Harry stared at him.  Was Remus really suggesting he really just roll over and give in without a fight?   He didn't think he could even _fathom_ the thought of giving Malfoy such pleasure. 

Remus seemed to know what he was thinking and said, "Really, it might even be what Malfoy has instructions to cause to happen.  Think on it Harry—if Severus was told to assume the position of teaching Defense at Hogwarts to be able to watch and observe you, then others will have had the same instructions.  I have no doubt Malfoy will have something planned and not all of it merely for his ends.  If you're worried about rolling over in the match and having to deal with Malfoy's apparent triumph, then just think about the larger cause of things; perhaps his orders are to get you to reveal your abilities and the skills, strengths and weaknesses you have.  By rolling over early you defy him to succeed and—in fact—if you do so blatantly, which I am sure if you lost even without rolling over, some people would still think you _might_ have thrown the match.  Now _that would really irk Malfoy.  Just think about it."_

Harry could only stare at Remus.  His mouth was getting a bit dry he realized and he shut it with an audible snap.  "You can't be…Remus—you really?"  Harry shook his head, not really wanting to comprehend.  "You think I should throw the duel?  Give in early and just shrug and say, 'oh, well, yup, you're way better than me, Malfoy.  You win.'?  Are you _mad?"  Harry goggled at Remus.  _

"You know, I can't say I hadn't given that idea some thought, too, Harry," Hermione said as she came up behind Harry and Remus.  "Between you and Malfoy—I don't see either of you giving up easily.  It might be more satisfying for you to give in early before he has a chance to actually prove anything or claim anything."  Hermione looked like she was anticipating Harry's indignation and anger at this thought.

He didn't disappoint.  "_Are you mad?_  I think it'd be most _satisfying to wipe the floor of the dungeons with Malfoy's pureblood arse!"_

Hermione frowned and bit her lip.  "Yes, well, I just thought it was worth mentioning.  And, well, obviously, Remus did too."

Harry shook his head.  He couldn't believe this was even being discussed as an option.  There was no way he was going to let Malfoy think he'd gotten the bettor of him.  _No bloody effing way!  _It went against every competitive prideful bone in his body.

Hermione shook her hair back and gave Remus a quick, raised-brow look and then looked back to Harry and changed the subject as she asked, "Did you find out anything about Hagrid's news?"

Harry was able to calm down with the change of topic and said, "No, I had class this afternoon, remember?  I thought he said he was going to Dumbledore about whatever was in the letter?"

Remus looked pensive and said, "Hmm, I wonder if he's heard from any of the other Giant colonies?"

"You mean like the one he went with Madame Maxime to visit last summer?" Hermione asked, her eyes wide with fear and dread at Hagrid making another trip like that one.  

"Mmm, yes," Remus said. "There are, or at least were, several different factions and communities of Giants across Europe.  I think this summer Albus had tried to put feelers out for any remaining communities in Scandinavia.  There used to be rumours of colonies on the Isles of Loften off the coast of Norway as well as in the deep northern mountainous regions, south of the Barents Sea, and in Finland.  

"The Scandinavian Ministry of Magic has had notoriously poor relations with our own Ministry as well as only being intermittently involved in the International Confederation of Wizards.  I imagine Albus circumvented anyone in their Ministry with whomever it was he contacted.  

"Too right you are, Remus," Dumbledore said, twinkling, as he swept into the room.  He smiled at Harry and Hermione in greeting and asked, "So you were there when Hagrid received his news?"

"Yes," Hermione said, "Is Remus right?  Has there been success in contacting more of the Giants?"

Dumbledore vacillated a moment and then offered, "Well, we have received word of their location and perhaps found a means to facilitate our contacting this new community."

"Does Hagrid have to leave to do this?  Is he going away again?" Harry asked as he desperately hoped he and Hermione wouldn't be asked to check in on Grawp again if Hagrid had to leave.

Other members were arriving now and some were listening in.  "Well, he is the best choice of envoy we have to send.  It is possible, however, that he might be taking a travelling companion with him."

"Madame Maxime," Hermione assumed.

"Oh no, Madame Maxime is running a school this time of year, you mustn't forget.  No, no, I meant someone from much closer to home here."  Hermione, Remus and Harry all looked expectantly at Dumbledore for an explanation.  "Hagrid's brother.  Hagrid sent word late this afternoon that they should meet and he will ask Grawp then if he would accompany him on this journey."

"But I though Hagrid couldn't go into the Forest anymore?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore nodded and said, "Well, the Forest seems of late to be divided.  Grawp is a considerable force with his strength and size and the Centaurs had not been able to do much but stalk him and keep him from resting.  That is, until he made some friends of his own in the Forest."  

Harry couldn't think of too many friends he'd ever met in the forest.   But to a Giant?  Harry paled, "Oh no, not…_Aragog?"  _

Dumbledore looked shocked for a brief moment (you don't see that everyday) but then twinkled at Harry and said, "My, my, you _do_ seem to get around here, Harry, don't you?  Yes, Hagrid's friend Aragog and his family have become friends of Grawp now.  Together, they seem to have carved out a small portion of the Forest that the Centaurs leave alone."  Dumbledore peered intently at Harry as he added, "But no part of the forest is completely safe at this time.  It is more dangerous than ever for humans to enter."

Harry held up his hands as he said, "Oh believe me, it's no place _I'd_ choose to take a stroll."  

"Albus," Remus said, "if I may ask, whom was it you contacted in Scandinavia?"

Dumbledore smiled as he said, "Ah, Charlie Weasley provided the contacts; he put me in touch with some of the dragon-keepers employed at the preserve in Sweden.  It seems, the preserve is not too far away from where several communities of Giants are reputed to live."

Harry saw Bill Weasley arrive then and head straight towards Dumbledore, looking dour.  "Well, I'm glad one of us has good news because I don't."

"I thought the Goblins were looking rather settled to work with us?" Professor McGonagall said.

Bill nodded shortly but said, "Well, they were, and I think still are, but it's not You-Know-Who who's trying to get something from them now."

Dumbledore looked grave.  "I assume," he said, "Minister Fudge is of whom you speak?  Is this in regards to his meeting with the Goblin Council of Gringotts?"

"Right in one," Bill said with a touch of disgust.  "He met this afternoon with them.  Ragnok was with them.  He pulled me aside after and told me what went on and told me to pass it on," Bill nodded at Harry.  "He said Gringotts would withhold a decision until they heard from you."

"About what?" Harry asked.  He was uncomfortable with this whole thing with the Goblins; he wasn't sure he was the best person for whatever role he was supposed to play and he certainly was questioning the judgement of the Goblins for choosing him as the one they wanted to deal with.

"What Fudge wants," Bill said as he took a deep breath and then set himself down in a chair and then began to explain.    "Fudge came in, and with none other than my own worthless sycophantic, poor excuse for a brother," Bill sneered as he obviously recalled Percy.  "He had that new Official of the Finance Authority Council—Planesse or something, the one hired to clean up and replace Malfoy now--with him, too.  Not to mention the fact that he brought three Aurors along, too.  Anyway, he demanded to have the vaults of all witches and wizards serving life sentences in prison seized and transferred into the Ministry's coffers."

"He can't do that!" more than one person protested.  Harry saw Mr. Weasley, Remus, McGonagall, Kingsley and Tonks, who had all arrived, nodding along.

"The Goblins will never go for that!" Moody said, shaking his head and causing his eye to revolve grotesquely.

Bill nodded and said, "Well, they're certainly not pleased.  It would violate the standard contract that each vault in the world has with Gringotts if they were to suddenly agree to garnish capitol on our Ministry's behalf—hell, on _anyone's_ behalf!  But you see, the thing is, Fudge has made them an offer," Bill said darkly.  "He's offered to allow Gringotts to retain a hefty percentage of the seized funds for their profit, just for cooperating."

There were more scoffs and comments from members present and Harry looked at Hermione.  

"Imagine," she said quietly to Harry, "what it would do to Malfoy to not just be the son of a convicted Death Eater but also a penniless and destitute son of a convict."  

Harry really couldn't imagine a Draco Malfoy with more rage than he currently had.  Really, Malfoy had been the least obtrusive into Harry's life this year, but that only made Harry suspect he had had moved on from petty insults and plots to annoy to planning something much more complex and possibly more sinister.  

In fact, the whole thing with Draco Malfoy really irritated Harry at this point.  Here was Harry, number one on Lord Voldemort's 'To Kill' list and The One chosen to defeat this Dark Lord—this pretty much made Voldemort, Harry's number one rival and archenemy.  But then there was little spoiled and bitter Draco Malfoy who for over five years has constantly tried to impede Harry's ability to live peaceably.  Malfoy, in fact, seemed to not quite understand why Harry didn't recognize him as The Boy Who Lived's greatest archenemy. Malfoy seemed to be oblivious to just who and in what order the people on Harry's 'Most Hated' list were.   As if Harry really had time to deal with Draco's obsessive schoolboy rivalry when he had Voldemort to worry about.  Maybe it would be best to just blatantly roll over in the duel on Tuesday; that would really put Malfoy in his place of not even being a worthy enough opponent to fight.

"Do the Goblins realize this would concern all members of the Wizarding World?" Dumbledore asked, restoring calm with the raising of a hand.  "We have what most see as a rather tenuous arrangement with the Goblins as it is and if they were to suddenly break from a contract that has been in place since 1692, then I think it quite possible this might do more harm than good—regardless of just how destitute our Ministry's coffers are.  Tell me William, did it sound like Fudge wanted to amend the Treaty of Finance that has governed Gringotts all this many years to effect this new change?  I believe he hasn't the authority; that lies with the International Confederation of Wizards to propose such a change."

Bill shook his head and looked at Dumbledore. "Oh no, sir, Fudge wanted to do this _today!"  Dumbledore looked extremely grave.  "The Goblins brought in their own reinforcements to get rid of Fudge and told him they'd have to think about it and discuss it with their own counsel and maybe then they might let him know _if_ the answer is yes.  It was a debacle!  Fudge getting thrown out of the back door of Gringotts and right into Knockturn Alley!" Bill seemed to be relishing this recollection.  Dumbledore looked extremely troubled.  _

"No wonder I saw Fudge blustering about and in a right fit with this contingency you describe.  They were all coming in through the Atrium when I was leaving this afternoon," Tonks said.  "It must have been right after that happened.   I know I heard him say something about bringing more force next time."

Dumbledore turned to Kingsley and said, "We need you to alert Amelia of this.  It falls under her authority to punish those of our country who break International Decrees and if Fudge were to try to force Gringotts to hand over assets, that is precisely what he would be doing."  

Mr. Weasley muttered, "Unless of course the rumours of dragons are true and they decide to dole on punishment."  Harry quite liked the idea of Fudge getting roasted alive by the fiery breath of a dragon.

 Dumbledore went on, "I will speak with some other close friends in the Confederation as well as on the Wizengamot to alert them of this development.  Thank you, William, for bringing this to our attention."  Dumbledore inclined his head towards Bill.

Bill shifted and said, "Well, that's not all, actually."  Dumbledore raised his silver eyebrows at Bill as he went on, "You see, Ragnok told me the Goblins position is that they will wait until they hear word from Harry.  They await his counsel."

Harry felt the weight of stares upon him.  It was a small enough group of people that he all knew fairly well and he looked back around at them all and held up his hands and said, "Don't look at me!  I'll just pass on whatever the Order decides together."  He then muttered, "If it were up to me, I'd like to see Fudge go against those dragons.  Preferably a Horntail."

"Well, that was an interesting meeting tonight," Hermione said the group broke up and she rolled up her parchments to pack up.

"Too right it was," Harry said.

"Harry!  Hermione!" Mr. Weasley called out as he came over to the two.  He was smiling and looking rather sheepish about something.  "I just had to tell you both, how happy Molly and I are for _both_ of you."  _Ah, right, the article.  Mr. Weasley frowned a moment but then recovered and grinned at them both.  "Molly's of course disappointed, Harry, that she can't count on making 'lovely green maids robes to match Harry's eyes' but I daresay she'll get over it."  He clapped a hand over Harry's shoulder and looked nostalgic as he said, "Ah, young love; I remember it well.  Molly and I met while we were still students here.  That was during the first rise of You-Know-Who.  Oh, he was mostly just rumour and myth when we were still in school.  It wasn't until a few years after we left Hogwarts that he really had begun to pick up followers in the main and that he became as feared as he is now.  But, oh, times were still foreboding.  It's marvellous that even when futures look uncertain and times are dark, that love will still find a way to take root and blossom, isn't it?"  _

Mr. Weasley's eyes were looking off into some misty memory as he gave Harry's shoulder a squeeze and left them alone in the room.  Harry, throughout Mr. Weasley's speech, had been looking right at Hermione.  He didn't take his eyes off of her now as he took a step towards her and reached out a hand to grasp hers.  "Can we talk?" he asked hoping she noted that he didn't just tell Mr. Weasley that his ideas and words were ridiculous.  

Hermione turned to face Harry more fully and looked up and into his eyes.  He reflexively stepped closer to her and placed his other hand on her waist as he held her luminous gaze.  He could gaze at her forever, he thought, if only the world would let him.  He felt his body responding to her nearness and the lack of contact he'd had with her over the past week wasn't helping him any at the moment.  But he knew he had a long explanation and apology to get out before he got so much as a kiss from her.  

With a deep breath, Harry began to explain.  "I owe you an apology—and an explanation," he started.  He felt it was a very good start that she hadn't pulled away from him yet.  

"Before that article came out, I felt like, well, like I could finally, _maybe_, just maybe, use my fame for a purpose of my own.  But then, when I read the headline and what they had made the story lead with—well, I felt like…like I was more of a _joke; a celebrity to be looked at and talked about but not one who might actually have something to say.   It—well, I've never but tolerated any of the ramifications of being famous, but with this, you know, using the Press and Rita to help effect things and do something positive —that thought made it almost seem worth it.  At least I thought it could be.  Even when we talked with her for that quick bit before the Express came to Hogwarts, she focused the story on the recent attack on your house more than anything."  _

Harry shifted and now placed both hands on Hermione's waist, looking deep into her eyes and willing her to see the truth in his words.  "But this is no excuse, not really.  I…I'm sorry.  I didn't even _think about how what I said might have made you feel.  I was just angry.  You've got to know…I mean I don't…it's not like I…"  Harry dropped his head to his chest, closed his eyes and moved closer to lean his forehead against hers.   _

"I care about you so much, Hermione," he whispered as his hands tightened on her waist.  "It's not ridiculous."  He opened his eyes and met hers.  In a low whisper he spoke, "Don't doubt me.   You're the most _important_ person in my _life.  _Don't ever doubt that_."  The intensity of his words, he tried to pour forth from his gaze and into hers.  His mouth grazed against her cheek, ghosting a kiss over it as he repeated, "__Don't ever doubt me."  He then wrapped his arms around her, feeling complete at last as she wound her arms around his neck and they held each other.  _

His mouth was so close to her ear.  His lips grazed over it as he tried to further explain in barely a choked whisper, "_Neither can live—I can't…I can't risk it…can't say it…can't feel it…well, I suppose I **can** feel, but no—I can't.  I could never admit it.  I can't—I'm afraid what that would mean.  Please," he begged her, lightly kissing her ear and then her neck quickly as he screwed his eyes shut tight against any emotion that might try to seep out.  "_Please, _don't ever doubt me."  _

He could feel Hermione trembling in his arms and he hoped he hadn't only made her angrier.  She pulled back ever so slightly and he thought she was going to tell him off for not being all that she deserved but, instead, she met his mouth for a searing and searching kiss that felt like they were both struggling to give all of their soul to the other.  It was the taste of promises and trust, laced with the need to give and to be received.  It felt like completion.  

"A-hem," A voice cleared itself from the door that had just opened.  Remus stood there, looking determinedly not at Harry or Hermione.  

They broke away and apart.  "Er, sorry, Remus," Harry said as he cleared his own throat a bit.  Hermione seemed to wipe a tear from her eye as Remus finally entered the room.

"Well," Remus said, "I just wanted to know what I should ask Fred and George to send you.  Assuming you are or may go ahead with your duel, that is—what should I tell them?" Remus dug in his cloak and into an inner pocket, pulling out a small parchment roll.  "Here, it's one of their adverts with a listing of wares."  

Harry took the parchment and scanned down the list.  He immediately saw several things that he would like to get.  Harry turned to Hermione and said, "Hey, it's almost ten now, why don't you go to the Common Room and find Ron so we can get started working.  I'll go over this stuff with Remus and be up in a bit."  

Hermione looked at him like she knew he planned on asking for things to which she would object but she just nodded and said, "All right.  See you later, Remus."

When she left, Harry closed the door with the flick of his wand and said, "Ok, we need to get some Extendable Ears here.  Hermione might be okay with them but then again, she might not be; she is a Prefect and one who takes it rather seriously.  As for whatever I might be able to use in a duel, well, I trust Fred and George on that to send me whatever I need.  Once they know what it's for, I have no doubt they'll know just the stuff.   

Harry went on: "I need to know what Malfoy's planning around here and I don't mean just about this duel next week.  He's got it in for me and he's got a growing group of tag-alongs that all have the same goal—to blame me for their parent's getting caught and locked away.  He's moved on from just insulting my friends and me—although he still does that—but now he's in a rage.  He wants revenge and I'm quite sure he's trying to plan something."

Remus looked contemplative and nodded at Harry.  "You must be careful around him.  You do realize who he may be in contact with, don't you?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, his fists clenched and nodded.  "_Bellatrix," he ground out.  _

Remus nodded.  "I'll talk to the twins tomorrow, Harry, and I'll tell them to send it off as soon as possible.  Was there anything else?"

Harry was about to shake his head but then he remembered one more thing.  "Uh, Remus?  I don't suppose you'd have any suggestions about something I could get Hermione for her birthday, do you?  It's next week and I haven't a clue," Harry bemoaned.  

Remus smiled at Harry and said, "Ah, now you know her much, much better than I, Harry.  I know she loves to read so perhaps a book?"

Harry shook his head.  "I've always gotten her books in the past.  It needs to be different, _more, now that we're…together, you know." _

Remus frowned and suggested, "Perfume? Jewellery?  Flowers?"

Harry was shaking his head.  "No—too…un-Hermione.  I've never smelled anything on her but her shampoo and maybe whatever she just ate.  I don't think she wears perfume.  Jewellery?  I don't think she wears any either.  And flowers, well, there's not much point to them besides looking at them and then they die eventually anyway—just what kind of message is that to send to someone you care about?"  

Remus laughed and said, "Well, like I said, you know her better than anyone."

Harry sighed.  "It's okay.  I should have asked Tonks while she was here.  I'll just go back to flipping through my catalogue of Diagon Alley merchants and wares.  There's got to be something in there.  

When Harry finally returned to the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron and Hermione were seated at their usual table off to the side and Ron turned to Harry and immediately said, "Tell me you're not going to take a dive in the duel against Malfoy!"

Several people paused and looked over curiously at this and Harry sat down at the circular table and held out his hands, palms down, to quiet Ron.

"Oh Merlin, Harry," Ron wailed in a hushed whisper as Harry sat down but didn't deny it.  

"Shh," Harry urged quietly.  "I just finished talking with Remus and I'll tell you all that he told me."  Ron looked confused about Remus being around and Harry said, "First things first, let me explain about—oh, hold on."  

Harry drew his wand and paused for a moment, spotted Ginny and called, "Ginny!  Got a few minutes?"  

She looked up from her game of chess she was playing against Dean, made a move, said, "Checkmate," and then happily joined them at the table.

As soon as she sat down, Harry conjured a privacy bubble to envelope the four of them at the table, drawing looks from several others whom he ignored.  

"Ok, listen up.  The Order has given us, as students, a mission."  Ron and Ginny both looked awed by this and grew very attentive.  "It's something we've already been doing really—the DA.  They want us to foster inter-House cooperation and friendships.  We've done a lot of that last year already and this year we've branched out and included some of the Slytherins—the only House that wasn't represented last year."

"So what's there to do now?" Ginny asked.

"Well," Harry said, "it's only the beginning.  I'm still working with a member of the Order each Friday night like I was over the summer; still learning new things which I can then pass forth and teach to everyone else.  Hermione's started doing some work as well at that time; picking up where she left off this summer.  You two, well, I think you two could really help if you made conscious efforts to befriend and help the Slytherin members of the DA and as we go through our classes, if you meet anyone else who you think may be a good addition to the group, then we should bring them in, too.  I think if there's all four of us doing this, then others will follow our lead."  

Harry saw Ron frown.  "Listen, the other Houses have enough members to have enough well-trained people help train and teach the other members within their Houses.  I'm not that worried about the rest of the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs or Ravenclaws that lack skills to defend themselves; they've got people to help them if they need it.  It's the members of Slytherin House that I'm worried about—and Professor Dumbledore is too.  He's worried that members of that House may turn to the more high profile members—think Malfoy—as the one to look to defend themselves or--_for a side to take_.  If we condemn them all for their House, then not only do we not enable them to make their own choice, but we also risk missing out some very well placed intelligence—both in what they know already and in what they may be able to find out someday."  Harry looked pleadingly at them.  "This is important, Dumbledore has spoken with me a few times about this.  Your dad already knows you've been asked to help with this."

Ginny looked thoughtful and then said quietly, "You know, Tom Riddle told me in his diary that not only did students of other Houses shun him for being a Slytherin, but, also members of his House shunned him for being a half-blood."  She looked resolutely at Harry and said, "I think you're right, Harry; they all need to feel they have a choice and someplace that will accept them no matter who they are."

Even Ron couldn't disagree with this and Hermione looked very pleased and proud of the way Harry presented this mission to them.    

"Ok, Harry, now what about this duel with Malfoy?" Ron asked, turning the matter back to the important stuff.  

Harry ran a hand through his hair and said, "Oh wait—you'll never believe who I saw this week—I'll give you a hint—you're least favorite brother." 

"Ron?" Ginny said, with a glare and wink towards Ron.  

Harry smiled.  

Ron shot her a glare and then tentatively guessed, "Percy?"

Harry nodded.  He then told them all about finding Percy and Fudge and their two undercover Aurors in Dumbledore's office earlier that week.  He'd been dying to tell them since it had happened but seeing as how none of them were on the best of terms, it just didn't happen.  Now, Harry was just eager to get back to being friends with everyone again.  In fact, Harry was kind of hoping that Ron would just sort of forget that he was supposed to be angry at all.  

By the time Harry was done, Ron was scowling and Ginny looked disgusted.  "What.  An.  _Idiot_!" she said with contempt.  Ron couldn't even find the words to say what he felt.  Ginny went on and asked, "He actually said, 'proper Wizarding pride'?"  Harry nodded sympathetically.  Ginny scowled at that and almost laughed.  "That's what Mum always says Fudge says about Dad and why Dad is stuck in his job. Mind you--Dad would go spare if he had to give up working with muggles; he loves it there!  I wonder if those are Mum's words Percy is parroting or if that really _is_ what Fudge says?" Ginny mused.

Ron shook his head and asked, "You really asked about Penelope?  I bet he'd _hate for Fudge to have heard that—Percy dating a muggleborn and lacking his 'proper Wizarding pride'!"  Ron grinned at the thought and then turned serious. "Ok, now back to you hexing the bollocks off of that ferret."_

Ginny stayed with them as they went over what Remus had said about why one _might_ throw the match.  They all decided that either way, they still had to work out a plan in case that just wasn't an option.  (Actually, Harry knew he didn't want to do it at all, but he couldn't just say that in front of Hermione without risking her ire—something he was not willing to do right now.)  

Ron had been working all evening on a strategy for the match that he'd drawn up; it included diagrams and everything.  But as Harry was looking them over, he realized Ron didn't know about a lot of the skills that Harry had acquired over the summer in training.  At first Harry was going to tell him and revise the plans to account for this, but then Harry realized that these plans allowed him to duel without showing off his extra-curricular training and skills.  _Maybe this would work after all_, he thought.

"So, really the most elaborate part of this plan is the fact they think we're going to do this whole elaborate plan but really, we're not?" Daphne recapped once again looking at Harry like she thought him a bit mad.  

It was Monday night before the duel and Harry was with his group, as well as Hermione, in the Room of Requirement going over their plans yet again.  

"Come on," Harry urged.  "The most important thing for you all to be able to do is to Stun, disarm and conjure a shield spell.  Protect yourself and take them out of the duel."  He'd also been trying to go over all the classes of jinxes and their appropriate counter-jinxes to help them along.  So far, he was feeling pretty confident.  

The "fake" plan consisted of a very elaborate plan will all sorts of purported spells that should keep the Slytherins too busy to know that the plan wasn't in effect at all. It had been completed on Sunday night and Harry had taken it with him into Potions class that morning.  He had left it sticking out of his Potions book that was left out during class.  He then arranged with Tracey and Padma to all be gone from the work table at the same time, gathering ingredients, in order to leave Millicent alone with access to the "fake" plan.  He had also given copies of the "fake" plan to Tracey and Daphne to take back to their dormitories.  After all, they did share a room with both Pansy and Millicent.   

Harry received his shipment from Fred and George on Monday morning.  It was so large it had needed two owls to carry it.  He had passed along one of the Extendable Ears to Tracey in Potions so she could find out what she could about the other group's plans.  So far, they hadn't heard anything of use.  

Fred and George had sent along what appeared to be a sampling of almost their entire inventory along with extensive instructions with suggestions for uses of all their products.  The twins lamented not being able to be present to witness the 'utter humiliation of the ferret' but 'felt honoured to be chosen allies in this fine endeavour'.  

Fine endeavour, indeed.  Come Tuesday morning, the school was buzzing as if it were the day of a Quidditch match.  Harry had overheard several students mention that they had recently purchased some Skivving Snackboxes from Weasley Wizards Wheezes in order to help them get out of class that afternoon so they might just 'happen' to be wandering past the Defense classroom at the time Harry just 'happened' to be duelling against Malfoy. 

After Charms class that morning, Harry went out for a short fly to calm himself.  Then he returned to the Common Room and asked Ron to play a game of chess to keep his mind busy.  Things were really very much like the old days with Ron.  It was so much easier to just be friends like always.  

After losing as usual to Ron, Harry stood up and stretched.  

"Ready for lunch and then to kick Malfoy's arse?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head.  "No—I have to meet my group in the Room of Requirement at noon.  We're going to eat lunch there—no chance of getting our food hexed—Dobby's bringing it himself.  We're going to go over everything one more time and hopefully one of them has heard something on the Ears about what Malfoy's plan is."

Ron nodded and looked at Harry for a moment before saying, "Well, you do us all proud and remember—if you get the chance—"

"—transfigure him into a ferret," they chorused together.

Harry laughed, "I know, I know.  I'm not sure if McGonagall could even give me a detention if I did it as part of a duel."

"It would be worth it," Ron said as his stomach growled.  "Well, I'm going to lunch early, maybe they'll put the food out early if I'm there."

Harry waved and set off with his bag full of all necessary items from Fred and George to meet his group and complete any final plans. 

Snape was lecturing about something; Harry didn't care so he really wasn't listening.  He kept looking up at the clock in the classroom that read, 'Time to Pay Attention'; he didn't listen to the clock either.  

Malfoy kept sending Harry smugly knowing little smirks across the room anytime Harry looked up.  Hermione kept trying to nudge Harry to pay attention and to stop fidgeting.  

Malfoy's smirking wouldn't normally worry Harry at all; in fact, it would probably make him feel like "The Plan" was working just perfectly.  Unfortunately, Tracey and Daphne had failed to show up at noon to meet with Harry and Susan and he was still a bit edgy about it.  

Susan had been a nervous wreck all morning and at noon, was having trouble performing the spells she had learned the previous year.  Harry even checked her over for some jinx that was preventing her from performing.  But when Tracey and Daphne failed to show up, Susan practically began to panic.  (Secretly, Harry was, too.)

Finally, with less than ten minutes before class, Tracey and Daphne finally burst into the room, panting and looking frazzled.  They apologized and said they had been held up in Arithmancy with revising a test they had just received back.  They didn't have time to go over anything again but Daphne said that she heard on the Extendable Ear last night Pansy and Millicent discussing their own plans to counter the "fake" plan that was planted.  

The words sounded right to Harry and he knew it should mean everything was going according to the real plan, but something just seemed off.  He could see that Daphne and Tracey, while looking perhaps a bit apprehensive, still did not seem to be really that nervous.  Again, this should have made him feel good, but something was not quite right.

Finally, the sound of Snape's baritone announcing, "Books away and clear off to the side," snapped Harry out of his pondering.  

As they cleared off their desks all moved out of the way, Ron nudged Harry and asked, "Hey, I saw your two Slytherins in the Hall for lunch and talking with Pansy.  Weren't they supposed to meet with you?"

Harry suddenly had about a dozen questions now and his inkling that something wasn't quite right suddenly found a description: he was dreading their betrayal.  Not necessarily because they would turn against him and want to do him harm, but because they might be subject to coercion from the people they have to share a House and dorm with.  Suddenly, throwing the match and ending it early was sounding like not such an awful idea.  

"Ah, and let's see who we have to watch humiliate themselves today," Snape hissed with relish as he surveyed the students.  Most had edged back, knowing they wouldn't have to go today.  Harry had a fleeting wish that Snape would quick change his plans for the day, try to throw them all off.  

Snape traced his lower lip with a long sallow finger and feigned ignorance as he silkily asked, "Mister…Potter, have you had an opportunity to show off yet?"  

Harry bit his tongue to keep from rising to Snape's baiting and just marched out into the cleared away area.  He spun around and watched Susan stumble out towards him and then saw Tracey and Daphne joining them but avoiding looking directly at Harry.  Harry beckoned them all closer and huddled them together.  

"Listen up," he said, quite sure that Tracey and Daphne's inability to meet his eye was only confirming his suspicions.  "You two," he said to the Slytherins, "should I Stun you now or just watch my back the whole time?"  They both looked at him startled; like they had just been caught stealing. 

While it did anger Harry that he wouldn't even be able to rely upon his own group, he also knew he shouldn't blame them completely.  "Just tell," he said, trying to refrain from sounding accusatory, "do they know the plan was a feint?"  

Tracey and Daphne shared a look and seemed hesitant to say anything.  Harry truly wished he could get a flash of Legilimency insight here to help him out. "Look," he said, "I realize they've probably blackmailed you to do whatever you're supposed to do.  I won't tell, but at least tell me what they know.  I can make sure they don't find out you've told me."

Harry saw Malfoy and his group ambling out to the open space and looking down towards the ground; this was good, Harry thought.  The first part of the fake plan included making them think that they would be enclosed within a Perimeter defined Trip Jinx to make them spend time looking for it and trying not to set it off.

Harry dug into his robe pocket to pull out the first Fred and George Special.  He looked back to Tracey; she looked like she really wanted to tell him something.  He looked to Daphne; she mouthed, "They believe the plan." 

Harry heard Snape's voice, "On my signal…"

Harry snapped his wrist to draw his wand and held the vial full of Weasley's Fabulous Festive Fog.  It looked just like Hermione's Caligo Conjuring Charm but if you tried to Vanish it, it set off sparklers and whirring mini-explosions.  Harry faced Malfoy and company and then he heard Tracey, "We're going to Stun you."

As a shower of silver sparks erupted from Snape's wand, Harry smashed the vial of Fog onto the floor between them, causing everyone to all be enveloped into a thick haze.  He then turned to where he had heard Tracey and, sure enough, saw two jets of red light.  

He conjured his Shield Charm without an incantation to avoid them knowing it had been deflected.  He thought he them heard two thuds of bodies falling, shortly followed by the first sparkle and explosion from someone trying to Vanish the fog.

Harry turned back and edged along the far side of the room, edging closer towards Malfoy's group.  He wasn't casting any spells because he was hoping they would think he'd been Stunned.  He occasionally saw a spell firing through the fog, some Disarming Charms and a few Stunners.  He saw there were at least some coming from where Susan would have been and he hoped she was finally under control.

"I can't find the damn thing!" he heard Pansy Parkinson call out.  Harry smirked; he knew she was looking for the non-existent Perimeter Jinx.  

"It's got to be there," he then heard Malfoy drawl.  "Keep looking!  Crabbe, Goyle, go help her."

Harry slunk forward through the fog, until he saw two lumbering shapes near him.  _Grabbe and Coyle, he thought.  Harry pulled the second vial out of his robes, uncapped it, dumped the dust out and into the air and then banished it towards the two hulking shapes.  _

He heard some coughing and then a deep voice say, "Vincent?  Darling where are you?"  Harry had to stifle a snicker as the Weasley Wizarding Wanton Lust Dust did its thing on the two hefty thugs.  

"Ew!!" he heard the unmistakable whiny voice of Pansy cry out.  Picturing her pug face, he pointed his wand towards her voice and as soon as he saw her shape appear to find Crabbe and Goyle affectionately stroking each other's hair (Harry had to use a lot of discipline to keep from vomiting), he hexed her face to have a pug's nose and ears and the hands of a dog's paws.  He followed that quickly with a Barking Jinx that made her yip like a dog when she tried to speak.  

_Three down_, Harry thought.  He pulled three of Fred and George's fake wands from inside his dragonhide boot and then pointed his own wand at them, switching them with the wands that Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy each had.  In his hand, their real wands now appeared and he slipped them into his other boot.  The dragonhide would prevent them from being disarmed from there or from being susceptible to a Summoning Charm.  He let out a second vial of the fog to keep them thickly ensconced.  

_There's still Nott, Millicent and Malfoy now.  _Harry tried to edge further around the back of Malfoy's group. He could hear the whirring and explosions of the fog still going off as well as the yipping of Pansy the pug-dog.  He even thought he could still hear Susan still calling out Disarming Charms and yelling, "_Stupefy_!"   

Harry was completely on the opposite side of Malfoy and his group from where he'd started.  Harry began to climb up the spiral staircase that usually led to the Defense Professor's private chambers.  As he climbed he could look down and see the fog covering the room.  He could make out the dark-haired head of Millicent still in the same spot where their group had started.  Harry pointed his wand at the ceiling, mumbled, "_Repetitio_," to create a Volley Wall Charm to use as a deflector. He then muttered, "_Stupefy," while aiming at the charm on the ceiling, angling it to strike directly down onto Millicent.  She fell with a thud._

Harry knew she would have no chance to see a spell coming at her from directly above but he also knew Malfoy _would have been able to see it.  Sure enough, a flash of light flew up from the fog, and ended the Volley Wall Charm.  Harry quickly aimed at the spot where he saw the spell originate from, almost believing he saw a blond head of hair, and cast, "__Stupefy."_

With the whirring, sparklers going off and intermittent explosions still sounding off, Harry couldn't be sure he'd hit anyone.  He pulled two more fake wands from his boot and performed another Switching Spell on them, concentrating on where Millicent's and Malfoy's wands would be if they were indeed Stunned.  Harry grinned as two real wands replaced the fake wands in his palm.  He pocketed them along with the others.  

He had all the wands—except for Nott's.  Harry hadn't seen him at all and he couldn't see anything that made him think he was still there.  _Maybe Susan Disarmed him_.  Harry quickly climbed down the stairs, and pointed his wand at the fog, saying, "_Evanesco," to set off more noise and distractions._

He lapped back around from where he came and nearly tripped over the still Stunned body of Tracey.  He plucked her wand from the floor beside her and tucked it into his robe.  He then saw Susan, looking confused and like she was about to revive Daphne.  "No!" Harry hissed as he ran up to her.  

Susan looked wildly at him.  "They haven't been helping at all!! They must have been—where have _you_ been?" 

Harry hushed her, pausing briefly to send a Vanishing Charm at the fog to set off more noise, and asked quickly, "Do you have a wand?  Did you Disarm anyone?"

She pulled a wand from her robe and Harry grinned and added it to the rest in his boot.  "That's all of them then," he said.  Susan looked shocked.  Harry bent to pick up Daphne's wand, pocketing it, and then said to Susan, "It's time to make them concede.  Just remember, none of their wands are real."  

Harry turned back to face the heavy fog, full of twinkling sparkles and _pops_! and pulled out the counter vial and opened it.  The fog in the room began to swirl and was pulled into a vortex, all funnelling itself to the open vial in Harry's hand.  The fog was all pulled in and the room cleared.  

Harry immediately saw Pansy the pug-dog try to pick up her wand on the floor using her paws and barking madly.  Susan Stunned her as the wand turned into a slithering snake.  Harry added magical ropes to bind her.  He then saw Crabbe and Goyle---_ewww!_  The entire class was pointing and nearly retching at the two large boys who were grunting away and petting each other fondly, holding hands and staring dreamy-eyed at the other.  Harry promptly Stunned them to put everyone out of their misery.  He bound them as well.  

He heard the din of other students talking, rise in volume but he wasn't paying attention to them.  His eyes fell upon the three Stunned bodies of Malfoy, Millicent and Nott.  

"_Incarcerous! Incarcerous! Incarcerous_!" he commanded promptly to bind each.  All six Slytherins were Stunned and bound on the floor.  

Harry saw Susan grinning as he realized the rest of his classmates were cheering and clapping. Then Snape intoned, "Silence!  No one has conceded this match yet."  

Harry had to fight a grin.  He revived Crabbe and Goyle first.  They looked longingly at each other, still held in place in their conjured ropes.  

"Do you two want to concede the fight so you can go off and be together?" Harry asked gleefully hoping the Lust Dust was still affecting them.  They both nodded eagerly, making the observing half of the class roar with laughter. Harry Stunned then again to keep them silent and said, "_Mobilicorpus," to each body to relocate it to the far side of the room and out of sight."_

Harry revived Nott next.  The scrawny boy struggled immediately against his bindings but then stopped as he looked around at the rest of Stunned and bound group members.  

"They've all conceded and been defeated," Harry said coolly.  

Susan then surprised Harry as she walked up to him and said, "Should I hex you until you give in or do you want to go quietly?"

Nott swallowed audibly, staring at her wand and Harry asked, "Do you concede?"  Nott nodded warily.  Susan Stunned him and took care of moving him off to the side.  

They did the same thing for Millicent; making her believe she was the last one who needed to concede and she gave in begrudgingly, glaring at the prone, Stunned bodies of her House mates.  

Harry revived Pansy next and she began to bark and yip.  He countered her Barking Jinx and she screamed out, "_Potter_, you bloody _filthy_—"  Harry put a Lock Jaw Jinx on her to prevent her from speaking.  Her jaw locked shut tightly and her lips curled back grotesquely as she tried to fight it. 

"Pansy, I can turn you into a poodle and then ask you to bark twice to concede or you can just give in now."  She scowled and struggled against her bonds and the jinx on her jaw before glaring at Harry with hatred.  

"I know an excellent Hair Shrivelling Hex, Harry.  She might like it.  Makes your hair fall out and it takes _years for it to ever grow back." Susan offered.  Pansy looked stricken and Susan smirked and said, "Just nod if you want to concede and keep those, er, _lovely tendrils_."  Pansy nodded once and looked like she was trying to spit.  Harry Stunned her to shut her up and Susan levitated her body away and off to the side.  _

Malfoy was the only one left now.  Harry walked closer to him and saw that Malfoy's hand was still clenched around a wand.  However, it was a fake wand and Harry was not worried about it.  He saw Snape watching with an evil smirk about his mouth.  

"_Ennervate_," he said, reviving Malfoy.  Malfoy froze, feeling the ropes binding him. Harry saw Malfoy's cold silver-grey eyes scan the room, seeing no one but Susan and Harry standing there with their wands out.  Harry saw Malfoy's eyes dart to behind Harry and fall upon the Stunned bodies of Tracey and Daphne.  

"Not very bright, are you, Potter," Malfoy drawled, trying admirably to sound calm.  Harry circled slowly around Malfoy and saw him clenching the handle of the fake wand.  Harry knew these fake wands were meant to revert to whatever odd item they really were, whenever someone would try to use it.  "With brains like yours, you belong in the Ministry, Potter.  You could work for the bumbling bunch of Aurors and that berk, Bones."

"_Alapa_!" Susan cried out, cursing Malfoy for insulting her aunt.   Harry marvelled at her quick cast as Malfoy's head snapped back as if slapped across the face.  

Malfoy acted unaffected.  "Forget it, Potter!" Malfoy spat.  "If you want to beat me, you're going to have to do it like a man!  Any fool can buy pranks from blood-traitors like the _Weasels_—you're just _afraid_ to duel me like a man!  _You haven't got the bollocks!!"_

Harry knew Malfoy was trying to rile him up; it didn't stop it from working.  Susan looked anxiously between Malfoy and Harry.  

"It's two against one, Potter and you're _still_ too much of a coward—_a baby!  Wee little baby Potter!_"

Hearing Bellatrix's words echoing from Malfoy's voice caused a roar of hatred to drown out all other sounds in Harry's ears.  He took two steps back, faced the sneering Malfoy and waved his bonds away.  

"Harry!" Susan hissed, hurrying back and beside Harry.

Malfoy grinned, narrowed his eyes in malicious hatred and held his wand out, ready to duel. 

Harry ground out through clenched teeth, "Go on, Malfoy.  Take your best shot," Harry dared as he held his arms out wide, one hand still holding his wand.  

 Malfoy's eyes got a perverse gleam in them as he cried out, "_Castrare!"  Harry couldn't help but flinch at the audacity of such a vicious curse but smirked widely as Malfoy was left holding a limp rat.  _

Malfoy flung the rat to side, towards the rest of the class and sneered, "A _rat_, Potter?  How fitting, maybe Weasel would like his pet back—whatever happened to him, by the way?"

"Are you about done yet Malfoy or do you really think I want to stand here and listen to you run your mouth off?" Harry shouted, his anger rising with Malfoy's every bait.  

Harry's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall; they had less than five minutes left in class.  As his gaze returned to Malfoy, he saw the Slytherin turning around and flipping his robe up, baring his trouser-covered arse to Harry as he said, "You can kiss my _lily_-white pureblood arse, Potter!"  Malfoy then spun around and cried, "_Stupefy_!"

Harry realized he must have pulled a spare wand when he had turned around and reflexively cast, "_Protego!"_

Malfoy countered with a Shield Charm of his own.  Harry sidestepped the curse as it flew at him a second time.  Unfortunately, Susan was too slow and was hit.  

"Down to just you and me, Potter," Malfoy sang.  He then pointed his new wand and cried out, "_Flamacreacio_!"

Instinctively, Harry shouted, "_Congelare!" and froze the jet of flame that was coming towards him with the Flame-Freezing Charm.  The jet of red and gold flames was frozen solid and turned into frosty blue ice crystals, stopping just a few feet short of Harry's face.  The ice crystals suddenly feel to the stone floor with a resounding _crash_! as the ice shattered like glass.  Harry followed it quickly with; "_Malvisum_!" to temporarily blind Malfoy as Harry kept moving around, still circling._

The ever-moving Harry didn't have to dodge as it was deflected back, off of Malfoy's Shield Charm.  "_Apotosus_!" Malfoy cursed Harry.

Some brain cell recalled this dark curse from some book and Harry knew only one thing could prevent him from being crushed between two solid walls of air.  "_Reducto_!" he cried, pointing to one side, blasting away the invisible wall.  He rolled forward to the floor and silently jinxed Malfoy with a Clothesline Jinx.  

Harry regained his footing as Malfoy was flung backwards and landed flat on his back, rubbing his throat.  Malfoy's curses were past the point of just being nasty; they were downright dangerous.  Harry could hear Hermione in the back of his mind, urging him to give in before it went too far and someone got hurt.  As Harry watched Malfoy stand up, seething and rubbing his throat, Harry boldly shouted, "_Stupefy_!"

He watched the jet of red light soar at Malfoy and as he saw Malfoy cast a shimmering blue Shield Charm, Harry pocketed his wand in his holster, stood with his arms wide open and let his own deflected jet of red light strike him full on.

He was conscious almost immediately.  Harry had practiced being hit by his own Stunners before when he was trying to master breaking through them.  He remained lying on the floor with his eyes closed.

"_Accio wand_!" he heard Malfoy cried with glee.  Harry's wand stayed put in his holster.  His holster protected against Disarming and Summoning.  Harry heard footsteps approaching and he cracked his eyes ever so slightly; peering through his lashes.

Harry felt Malfoy gave a kick to his hip and any thought of giving up was squelched by seeing the look of malice on Malfoy's face as he levelled his wand at Harry, just inches away.  Harry suddenly swept his leg out and felled Malfoy, causing his second wand to clatter to the floor.

Harry was on his feet and quickly Banished the wand out of Malfoy's reach as he lunged for it.  Harry stood looking down at the wandless Malfoy, panting, seething and his wand levelled directly at the pointy-faced, blond.  

"Ready to give in, yet, Malfoy?" Harry said in a clipped and cool voice.  

Malfoy glared at Harry and made to stand up but Harry cast a Jelly-Legs jinx on him, keeping him seated on the floor with wobbly legs.  Malfoy glared sullenly up at Harry.  "You're going to have to _make me give in, Potter.  Don't you know how this works?"  Harry merely looked coolly at the beaten Malfoy.  "You've got to __make me feel pain so I want to give in.  Have you got in touch with your inner anger yet, Potter?  __Wee…baby…Pot—"_

Malfoy was cut off as Harry hexed his mouth right off.  Harry stalked over and towards the rest of class, holstering his wand in his sleeve.  The bell had to be about to ring any moment now.  He was done with this duel whether Malfoy gave in or not.  He wanted to get his bag and get the hell out of this class. 

"Where do you think you're going, Potter?"  A silkily voice inquired as flurry of billowing black robes swept in front of Harry, blocking his path.  

"Class is over," Harry said trying to step around Snape.

A long black ebony wand was pointed at Harry's chest and he looked up to see Snape grinning garishly, fathomless black eyes glinting cruelly and nodding as he then hissed, "Class is over when I say it's over.  You're not finished yet, Potter."

Harry glared at Snape and at the wand pointing at his chest.  He then stalked back out to face the mouthless Malfoy.  He peered directly into the cool and defiant grey eyes and without a word, pointed his wand at Malfoy and soundlessly cast, "_Legilimens."  _

He was probing; seeking out what Malfoy least wanted Harry to know.  It was instinctual how Harry directed with his mind where the probe was to seek out and pull forth.  It was like using Imperius on an object to control it; he guided the spell, the probe, to flip until suddenly an image would flash.  It was like scanning through all sorts of blank stations on a television and only glimpsing an image as you passed by a tuned in station.

Harry saw Bellatrix Lestrange's face pointing a wand at Draco as he writhed and screamed on the ground in pain…He saw Lucius Malfoy striking Draco across the face while Draco was wearing Slytherin's silver and green quidditch robes and was feeling hatred and rage…He saw Draco alone, nude, pale skin lying on a dark green duvet, surrounded by dark green bed hangings as he tossed off, biting his pillow as he felt shame…He saw the red eyes and thin-lipped mouth of Lord Voldemort as Draco bowed and kissed the hem of his robes, shaking with fear and loathing…

"ENOUGH!"  A hand struck Harry's arm down, breaking the spell.  "The bell has rung!" Snape said.  

Harry stood riveted upon the sight of Malfoy cowering and shaking on the floor before him.  If he had a mouth, it looked like Malfoy would have been sobbing.  The rest of the class was not moving to leave; they were standing there, most with their mouths agape; watching Malfoy curled into a ball on the floor and Harry standing emotionlessly over him while Snape seethed at Harry.  

Harry whirled around, revived Susan, then revived Daphne and Tracey.  He removed the two wands from his robe and gave them to Daphne and Tracey without so much as a word or a look before he stormed out of the classroom.

"Harry!  Harry wait up!" 

Harry kept right on walking despite Hermione's pleas behind him.  

~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *

~          *            ~            *            ~            *

**_Reminder_**:  You may always find chapters posted on my Yahoo Group.  The website is linked on my bio page.  The Yahoo Group name is: HP_AoF.  Cheers!


	28. Chapter 31 Insights and Birthday Delight...

"Harry!  Harry, wait up!"

Harry kept right on walking, despite Hermione's pleas behind him.

Chapter 31. Insights and Birthday Delights 

_I need a chance to think about what just happened_, Harry silently decided as a wave of thoughts and emotions swelled within, compelling him to seek solitude.

"Potter!" Snape's voice resounding down the hallway certainly didn't make the prospect of turning back more appealing.

"POTTER!" Heavy footsteps were approaching behind Harry and he felt the tingle of a spell crossing his Perimeter Charm.  The Full Body Bind hit Harry from behind, causing him to stumbled in mid-stride, but he did not fall over.  The spell-repellent dragonhide of his boots gave him leverage to remain upright and then break through the bind.  He then whipped around to face the snarling face of Snape.

Students had begun to trickle down the hallway, on their way to their next class for the afternoon.  The sight of Snape and Harry, both with wands drawn and both looking fit to kill, made just about everyone stop and back away.  

Harry was defiantly meeting Snape's glare.  Snape hissed as his long sallow fingers curled in a pincer-like grip around Harry's upper arm. "You can either follow me to the dungeons now, Potter, or you can spend a week in detention and explain yourself to the headmaster."

Coolly, Harry jerked his arm away from Snape, brandishing his wand and said, "Actually, I was just on my way to speak with Professor Dumbledore now."  It was a lie, Harry had no clue where he had been going; just anyway that was away.

Snape's lip curled as he said, "Yes, you can be sure I'll be having a word with the headmaster, too."

"A chat seems like a lovely idea, boys," Dumbledore sang out pleasantly, causing both Harry and Snape to jump in surprise and spin around to see Dumbledore standing in the hallway.  "Come along, then, just in here will do," he said as he gestured to a room just off the corridor.

Snape swept in first and Harry followed, briefly glancing at Dumbledore's face to guess how much the headmaster already knew.  Dumbledore's face betrayed nothing.

An instant after the door was shut, Snape billowed towards Dumbledore and began to rant, "Potter is out of control!  He just violated the mind of another student in the middle of a class demonstration!"  Snape spun, his face white with rage as he faced Harry and with two long strides was pointing a yellowed finger at Harry's chest, "Were you _enjoying yourself,  
Potter?  Do you enjoy __lording yourself over other helpless students, hmm?"_

"_Helpless_?" cried Harry in disgusted indignation.  

Snape was baring his teeth in a mockery of a grin.  "Yes, and I bet you just can't wait to have your revenge on him."

Harry was prevented from retorting when Dumbledore stepped between them and held up his hands in a plea for silence.  "Let us try to speak one at a time," Dumbledore suggested, looking at both Harry and Snape, making each feel castigated.  He nodded once then at Snape to go ahead.

Snape drew himself up and spoke directly to Dumbledore, as if Harry were not even there, "Headmaster, Potter was unable to defeat his opponent and he resorted to using Legilimency on a student when he realized he could not win."  Harry had to bit his lip to keep from shouting out that these were misleading lies.  Snape went on, clinically detailing his version of the duel, "Potter resorted to pranks and foolish stunts with which to amuse his classmates instead of demonstrating core basics of defense in the duel he was assigned.  He even took out two of his own team members in the very beginning simply because they were from Slytherin House.  When he proved unable to defeat Mister Malfoy, Potter resorted to breaking into his mind in a vindictive and reckless attempt to gain access to information with which to humiliate a student of my House.  This behavior cannot be tolerated!"

Dumbledore merely looked on, contemplative.  He turned to Harry then.  "Harry?  Might you give me your version of the events?"

Harry took a deep breath and felt relief at the prospect of being able to explain what little truth Snape had to hold up his statements.  "Sir, I tried to end the duel peaceably, but Malfoy kept refusing to concede."

"And why should he?  He still had his wand!" Snape cut in.  Dumbledore silenced him with a look.

Harry's eyes narrowed and he looked at Snape as he said coolly, "Yes, and isn't there some Ministry law about not possessing more than one serviceable wand at a time?"  Harry saw Snape just glare back and Harry turned back to Dumbledore.  "_I was even ready to concede at one point just to get it over, but Malfoy wasn't about to be happy with just knocking me out and getting me to concede—his curses were _vicious_!  He used _Castrare_, _Flamacreacio_, and __Apotosus—all of them!  I wouldn't even have known how to counter the Imploding Curse if I hadn't read about it in Duelling with Wizards Who Play Dirty!  But I disarmed him—__twice, once with each of his wands—and he still wouldn't concede."  Harry shook his head at the memory of how Malfoy wouldn't give in.  "He wouldn't give in when he knew he was beat and then he kept bating me.  He __knew things, sir.  He knew all about that night at the Ministry and he flaunted how much he knew.  __She's told him everything—__everything!"  Harry felt a chill wash over him as he recalled the realization that Malfoy knew Harry had tried to curse Bellatrix with the Cruciatus.  _

Harry took a deep breath to steady himself.  "He wouldn't give in.  I tried to walk away."  Harry turned to glare at Snape as he said, "But _he_ _insisted I go back out and finish it!"_

Snape sneered, "I never—"

"Severus!"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he recalled Malfoy's words, '_You've got to **make me feel pain so I want to give in.  Have you got in touch with your inner anger, yet, Potter?  ****Wee…baby…Potter…**_'  "He wanted me to torture him into concession," Harry said quietly, almost to himself.  "It's just a class.  I'm not sure what made me do it, but I wasn't going to give in to Malfoy's bating.  If I would have tried to hex and curse him until he was willing to give in, he would have endured it just to make me look awful.  I didn't voice the incantation; no one who doesn't know of it would know what I did.  I cast _Legilimens_," Harry concluded simply.

Dumbledore was watching Harry closely.  "Did you see anything, Harry?"

Harry nodded and then looked sharply at Dumbledore.  "Sir, you said that he isn't Marked. But I saw him—I saw him with Voldemort, kneeling and kissing the hems of his robes as all his servants do."

Grimacing, Snape spat out, "Ridiculous!  Potter, you don't know what you're doing!  You're not even versed in the art of Legilimency!"

Dumbledore held up his hand against to quiet Snape.  "Tell me, Harry, tell me more specifically what it all was that you saw.  Was your questing specific?"

Harry crossed his arms and focuses on recalling the scenes he saw in Malfoy's mind. "I was… probing for things Malfoy did not want me to know."

"You, specifically, Harry or just things he wouldn't wish known in general?" Dumbledore inquired intently.

"Me, specifically, me," Harry said.  "I've known he's been up to something since he told me he wanted to kill me after his father was carted off last year.  I saw…several things.  Like I said, I saw Voldemort and Malfoy as he kissed his robes, kneeling before him and…I think I felt—could I have felt Malfoy's feelings associated with these memories?"

Dumbledore nodded and said, "Most especially if the feeling is what makes the memory something he would never want you to know.  Did you perceive his feelings, too, Harry?"

Harry nodded slowly and said, "Yes, he felt…fear… and loathing.  But, I also saw him then with—with her—Bellatrix.  He was in pain and I could swear she was torturing him with the Cruciatus.  Why would she do that to him?  I saw his father…after a quidditch match…"  

Harry's mind was swimming with the memories of Malfoy's that he'd seen when Snape announced, "Headmaster, I must insist, Potter should be Obliviated."

"What?  NO!" Harry shouted.

"He'll no doubt use this information against Mister Malfoy—"

"The information could prove valuable, Severus."

"Potter will use to _lord himself—_to humiliate_—"_

"I would do no such thing!" Harry cried and then narrowed his eyes as he pinned Snape with a glare.  "I'm—not—like—_him!"_

Harry could only enjoy the briefest moment of shock on Snape's face before he snarled and spat as he declared: "You're _exactly like him!"_

"That'll do to be getting on with," Dumbledore said with an air of finality while laying a claming hand upon Snape's shoulder.  "Severus, no one will be getting Obliviated.  Harry, I think we need to have you collect all your memories of what you saw and put them onto parchment.  I think it would be best if you did this now while it is fresh in your mind; the more detail the better, Harry.  We can go over it further tomorrow.  Why don't you return to the classroom and use the Defense office, I believe Miss Granger is waiting for you just outside."

Harry thought putting all the memories down on parchment sounded like an excellent idea.  He stopped just before opening the door to leave and lifted the hem of his robe and dug into his boot, extracting six wands.  He set them all upon the desk.  "Malfoy's _spare_ was still in the classroom," he muttered as he left without looking back.

Hermione was indeed waiting just outside the door for Harry.  But when he came out and the door shut again behind him, Hermione grabbed his arm and whispered, "Shh, he didn't ward the door, I already heard everything.  Maybe we can still listen."

"He knew you were out here," Harry whispered back.

Hermione held up a finger to her lips and stepped closer to Harry, looking up at him as they heard Snape begin his ranting again about what Harry did.  "I don't want to listen to this, again," Harry said quietly.  At least in there, he could argue and explain himself when Snape distorted the truth.

Dumbledore's calm voice cut Snape off as he said, "Severus, Harry did nothing wrong.  The Ministry does not even officially recognize the arts of Legilimency—he's broken no rules. In fact, I think Harry showed great intuition to perceive that Mister Malfoy, while not likely to cave in under physical pressure, would be coercible by assaulting his mind.  If Harry can interpret what he has seen, then this may indeed, be an asset to our intelligence.  I think this event can work in our favor in many ways, Severus, and there is nothing to be done for it now."

"And what of Malfoy, sir?  He has news now of Potter's study in Occlumency and now Legilimency—you think that will be kept silent?  And what do you think will happen to young Malfoy if what Potter says is true?  If Malfoy has already been taken into the service of the Dark Lord then it will be hell to pay for him if word gets out that he let Potter break into his mind!"

"Severus, I do not believe, for these very reasons, that Mister Malfoy will want this event to become known for what it was.  Mister Malfoy only has much to lose by telling others of what truly transpired.  And as for Voldemort's knowledge of Harry's abilities and studies—well, he would be quite a fool to not expect Harry to have had rigorous training in Occlumency to prevent further attacks such as last year.  Legilimency skills are naturally enhanced and developed trough this training, as you well know.  

"And while we are speaking, Severus, have you had any news of Harry's emotions affecting Lord Voldemort?"

There was a moment of tense silence before Harry and Hermione could hear Snape's low voice saying, "I do not believe so.  But he appears to be growing weaker.  Bellatrix has been hysterical about it.  I've been getting requests and demands for all sorts of elixirs and potions; even being urged to research and experiment for something to stop the apparent drain.  There was word last week that one elixir seemed to have some effect, but it now seems to be even worse.   No one knows what's causing it.  At this rate, he might not be much of a match for anyone, much less Potter."

"Most curious," came Dumbledore's contemplative voice.  "We shall see, Severus, we shall see."

Harry blinked at what he had just overheard and then tugged Hermione away from the door.  "C'mon, we can't be caught out here."

The Defense classroom was empty now and Harry led Hermione to the back office.  "You heard everything when I was in there?" he asked.

"Yes," Hermione said as she handed Harry his bag.   She then shut and warded the door and sunk into a chair.  

Harry was about to ask what could possibly be causing Voldemort be getting weaker when Hermione said triumphantly, "I _thought it might have been Legilimency!"_

Harry looked up at her.  "What did it look like to you?  What did everyone see?"  It had been odd to be the one casting the spell and guiding it, but Harry had never just observed the spell being cast and someone having their memories probed.

Hermione said, "Well, most people thought you were just brandishing your wand at him and that Malfoy was cowering.  After Snape forced you back out there, Harry, you looked murderous.  If I were Malfoy, I would have been shaking, too.  

"But then I saw the briefest glint of a silver spark fly out of your wand and your eyes—Harry I can always tell the instant you cast a spell without an incantation because your eyes flash with this intensity—like you're focusing and releasing the spell at that very instant.  No one else would know to see it, but I've seen it all summer."  Hermione leaned back in her chair and looked intently at Harry.    

"I thought it might have been Legilimency when the bell rang and neither you nor Malfoy moved.  I remember you saying that when you're under the spell, you're not aware of your surroundings.  Then Snape stopped you."  

Harry listened and couldn't stop thinking about what he had all seen.  "Here," Hermione said, digging in her bag.  "I can never find what I—oh, here it is.  She handed Harry a fresh parchment.  "You should get to writing it down while it's still fresh."

Harry took the parchment and opened the draw of the desk to find ink and a quill. "Wait here?  It won't take long," he said and Hermione nodded.

"Are you finished?" Hermione asked as Harry set his quill down and blew across the parchment.  

Harry nodded and after pausing a moment, handed the parchment to Hermione.  She read it over quickly and then narrowed her eyes, bit her lip and read it over again more slowly.  Harry could see her checks tinge with pink as she must have been reading the one where Malfoy had been wanking.

"Do you still have that book on magic of the mind?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's in my dorm.  Why?"

Hermione seemed to be studying each word with the utmost of scrutiny as she slowly read across the parchment.  "I'd like to see it later.  You've made this as a list and entitled it, 'Things Malfoy Doesn't Want Me to Know About'—why?"

Harry explained more specifically about the questing he put into the probing of the spell and repeated what Dumbledore said about the feelings he gleaned from the memories may be the key to interpreting just why Malfoy wouldn't want Harry to know.  

Hermione just seemed to stare at the parchment more intently, like it was an Arithmancy problem that she had to solve.  "So we can assume each of these incidents are somehow connected to you," Hermione stated.  

Harry wasn't sure he wanted this to necessarily to be true and merely said, "Well, _linked, perhaps not necessarily directly related to me."  There was one memory in particular that Harry was absolutely certain he did not want associated directly with him._

"Well, the one after the quidditch match seems easy; it was likely just after you beat him yet again.  You have here Malfoy felt hatred and rage—I imagine that would be exactly how he felt after losing to you, especially if he father berated him then for not being able to defeat you in quidditch."  Hermione was in full analytical mode now and Harry, with his own mind racing, watched her work over the possibilities.  "Then again," she said, "it might be that Draco really felt this towards his father.  But, perhaps that can't be; then we don't have the link to you as to the feeling."

After a few more moments, she asked, "Okay, why might Bellatrix Lestrange putting him under the Cruciatus some how be linked to you?  Was she torturing him?  And if so, why?"

Harry looked away from her perplexed expression and pretended to ponder it.  However, he had an inkling he knew that one.  Draco knew; _he had to have known_, all about Harry's rage-filled attempt to curse Bellatrix.  Something in the back of Harry's mind whispered to him that one had to feel and know the curse in order to be able to cast it properly and the memory in Malfoy's mind was evidence that he had been taught how to cast it now.  Perhaps Bellatrix goaded Malfoy with the knowledge that he, Harry, had already attempted the curse.  Perhaps Malfoy blamed Harry for having to be put under the curse.  Perhaps Malfoy was learning the curse in order to use on Harry.  They all seemed quite likely to Harry.

"Harry?  Are you listening?" Hermione's voice cut into Harry's thoughts.  "Harry, what happened with Tracey and Daphne?"  

Harry was happy to get on to a different topic and as he told Hermione, he casually reached for the parchment of Draco Malfoy's memories and rolled it away.  

All over the school, students were relaying the story of how the mere the threat of Harry Potter, sent to finish the duel by Snape, made Draco Malfoy cower in fear and break down.  Malfoy had yet to emerge from the Hospital wing, as he still hadn't gotten his mouth back.  Pansy Parkinson also seemed to be held up, waiting for a restorative to get rid of her hexed nose and paws.  Also, Crabbe and Goyle were being kept at separate ends of the Hospital wing to prevent them from compromising each other's virtues.  Harry had an antidote for the Lust Dust from Fred and George but he didn't feel compelled to offer it up.

As Harry entered the Room of Requirement to begin the evening's DA lesson, he was met with a raucous chorus of shouts and cheers for his handiwork that afternoon.  But there was one voice that Harry noted, he did not hear.  In fact, he couldn't even see him anywhere.

Ron had been distressingly absent or quiet since the duel.  Harry and Hermione had joined the Gryffindors for dinner in the Great Hall that evening and found their year mates gushing with details of the duel to the other members of the House.  AS they approached the table, Harry had heard Ron gushing with the rest of them but as soon as Ron had turned and saw Harry and Hermione walk in together, Ron had grown silent and had since resumed his distance to them both.  

As the DA began to work on the Reductor Curse, Harry realized that he could find neither Tracey nor Daphne.  Hermione was working with Blaise and Harry walked over and asked, "Have either of you seen Tracey or Daphne?"  

Blaise shrugged and Hermione said, "Did you talk to them after the duel, Harry?"

"Obviously not—when would I have had time?"  Harry said, irritated now that both girls had seemingly dropped him all together.  

Hermione, frowned slightly at Harry's waspish tone and said, "Well, maybe they thought they wouldn't be wanted here."  She leaned in a whispered, "I think there were quite a few people who saw them talking to Pansy before the class, like Ron did.  It's pretty common knowledge now that they had planned to turn on you."

"This is ridiculous," Harry muttered as he pulled the Marauder's Map out of pocket and went off to the side to activate the map.  He searched the castle on the map until he saw _Tracey Davis_ and _Daphne Greengrass sitting together in the library.  _

Just as Harry was about to deactivate the map, he saw _Ron Weasley_ in room with _Viktor Krum.  "That's odd," Harry muttered to himself.  _The might be starting up a club of Hermione's rejected lovers, _Harry thought with irritation as he folded the worn piece of blank parchment, stuffed it into his pocket and told Hermione, "I'll be back."_

"Don't you both have some place to be?"  Harry demanded, as he splayed both hands upon the table and leaned over to look between twin faces of shock.

The library was not very busy tonight and Tracey and Daphne were in a secluded corner just behind the Restricted Section.  

"Tuesdays and Thursdays, unless you hear otherwise—you _do_ remember the schedule, don't you?" Harry inquired again, determined to not let them slip out of the DA.

 Tracey swallowed with effort and Daphne flipped her braid back over her shoulder and began, "You don't need us, Gryffindor."  Her chin rose and she did her best to look down upon someone who was physically looming over her as she went on, "You don't need anyone; you proved that very clearly today.  So, you can take your charitable invitation to your little army and stuff it."

Harry gaped at Daphne.  "What in blazes is that supposed to mean?"  He pulled out a chair and sat down before she could answer.  "Listen, you know as well as I do, why I Stunned the both of you."

"Exactly," Daphne said coolly.  "So you needn't bother with us any longer."

Harry looked at her for a moment before turning to look shrewdly upon Tracy.  "Is this how you feel, too?"  Tracey couldn't meet Harry's eyes.  "Well, for your information," Harry said.  "I didn't ask the both of you to join the DA just to get a good mark in Defense class.  I asked you to join because I thought you might like the opportunity to adequately learn how to defend yourselves.  You know, give you the skills so you wouldn't have to fear being blackmailed or coerced by other people.  Give you the skills to be able to stand up for yourselves and enable you to make your own choices—not just have them made for you."  Harry leaned in closer to them and kept his voice low as he went on, "You know, it never even occurred to me that you would betray me because of our House divisions or who I am.  Never—not until you both failed to show up on time today and then couldn't look me in the eye.  That's when I had this inkling something was up.  But, only when someone else said they saw you in the Hall with Pansy Parkinson and not revising some Arithmancy test, did I put it all together.  Did I think you each had a change of heart?  Saw this as a fine chance to take your shot at me?  No—I only thought that you had to have been blackmailed, coerced, _persuaded_--somehow by your other Housemates with questionable allegiances.  I never once doubted you."  

Neither Tracey nor Daphne could look Harry in the eye by now.  "I'm not trying to get you to swear your allegiance to me or against Voldemort." Both girls flinched at the name.  "But I am trying to enable you to not be easy prey for someone else who might plan to force your allegiance to someone else.  It's your choice now if you want to come to the DA.  I won't lie and say I would not be disappointed if you didn't return."  With one more look at their bowed heads, Harry pushed his chair back away from the table and stood up.   

"Wait," Tracey said, looking up with a pleading look on her face.  "Are you going back there now?"

Harry nodded and then said, "If you want, wait five minutes before following me up there," and left.

Harry was pacing in the Room of Requirement as he awaited their arrival.  Hermione kept giving him worried looks.  Harry paused to watch Luna clap gleefully as one her Ravenclaw first years decimated two legs of a wooden chair to splinters with a Reductor Curse.  Neville looked at Harry and grinned.  Harry saw Neville's eyes dart towards the entrance and the grin on his face faltered.  

Harry turned and saw Tracey and Daphne enter the room cautiously and then freeze uncomfortable as several DA members stopped their work to glare coldly at the newest arrivals.  Harry felt the tension in the room and he hastened to get everyone back to work, however, before he could set up Tracey and Daphne to work on the new curse, Ernie Macmillan stepped forward and said coldly to the girls: "We all saw you turn on Harry today.  We know what side you've chosen."  

A few other DA members had moved to stand beside Ernie and were each looking menacingly towards the Slytherin girls.  Harry was a little stunned at the sudden condemnation the members of the DA were willing to issue and he stepped in front of Ernie and faced the other DA members. "No one has chosen any sides today.  I asked both Tracey and Daphne to come back here to continue to be a part of the DA."

Looking spitefully at the girls behind him, Zacharias Smith said, "But, Harry, surely you —"

"No," Harry said, holding up his hands to quiet any protestations.  "Now just hold on."  Harry sighed as he realized he'd have to give everyone basically the same talk that he'd given minutes ago to get Tracey and Daphne to come back.  

After he was through and he felt most people understood what he was trying to say, he then locked eyes with Hermione and said, "Hermione can you tell everyone about the loyalty and intent spells on the door?"

Hermione looked startled at Harry's request and then shook her hair back before she stood up and explained.  "Well, each time we have a DA meeting, I arrive here early and place some charms and jinxes on the doorway—they're linked to the room of course and the room helps support them.  But anyway, the point I think Harry wants me to make is, they ensure that you can only see the door and enter the room if your intents do not include to cause harm or to betray the group as a whole or Harry."  She looked up and saw Harry nodding at her.  "No one can get in here if they aren't trustworthy as far as this group is concerned."  

Harry smiled at her and then said, "Ok, so anyone who gets in—you can rest assured they are trustworthy enough to be here.  On a different note, I think we've just about caught all our new members up to speed and next time, we can begin work on the Patronus Charm.  That's all I have to say."

The group broke up early after that and cleared out.  "I was talking to Tracey just now," Hermione said as she and Harry cleaned up the room.  "I explained to them how to use an Imperturbment Charm to ensure privacy when they need it and also Proximity Charms so they can sleep peaceably without worrying about someone sneaking up on them in the middle of the night."

Harry snorted, "It won't stop that from happening."

Hermione frowned and brushed a strand of hair out of her face, "No, but at least they can wake up before it does and have a fighting chance.  I don't think I ever realized how tough it has to be for them to live with people who you can't trust."  She surveyed the room, checking for anything else to put away and said, "So, I see Ron is back to ignoring you and glaring at me."

"He glares at you?" Harry asked.  

Hermione looked like he questioned whether Snape was really greasy. 

"Why does he glare at you?  He doesn't even look at me!"

"Beats me, Harry. I guess it was too much to hope that he'd just forget he was supposed to be angry."

 There was something else Harry was going to say about Ron but Hermione got a sly look on her face and stepped in close and twined her arms around Harry's neck as she asked, "Do you have your cloak with you?"

Harry nodded as his arms instinctively wrapped around her waist.  "Why?"

Hermione looked positively impish as she grinned and said, "Because then we can use it to sneak back after the room helps give us what we need." 

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as she said, "We need a room that is locked to anyone and where no one can get in or walk in and find us.  It needs a big, huge, soft, bed."  She opened her eyes and found Harry grinning back at her devilishly.   

As Harry began to nip and kiss at her neck, she murmured, "You know, Harry, I don't believe I've ever told you how sexy you are when you stand up before a group and give a speech."

"You were back late last night," Dean said, smirking at Harry the next morning as Harry laid across his bed and kept flipping through pages of a Diagon Alley catalogue.  

Harry mumbled something incoherent and kept flipping; he had to order a gift like now to get it in two days time for Hermione's birthday.  

"Yeah, mate, you weren't in the Common Room last night.  We never saw you come in," Seamus said slyly.  "Now that I think on it, we only just saw you now, mate.  Did you even spend the night in your own bed?"

Harry looked up, blushing red and quickly looked down again as Neville returned from the showers.  

"Harry got lucky last night," Seamus sang.  Neville nearly dropped Trevor at this.

"Shut it," Harry ground out as he threw his pillow across the room at Seamus.

"Ooh!" chorused Dean and Seamus.  

"He _did_ get lucky!"

A few more taunts followed this and then Neville said something that made Harry drop his mouth and gape.  "You know Harry," said Neville quietly.  "As the Prefect I could turn you in to Professor McGonagall for being out past curfew."  If Harry thought this was surprising, then it was nothing compared to what Neville said next: "Unless of course, you can confirm that you were with another Prefect last night.  Then I guess I could let it slide."

"Go Neville," Dean breathed out appreciating his dorm mate's sly blackmailing of Harry. 

"Yeah…with…Prefect," Harry muttered making the other three boys call out and whoop.  

They were still teasing and asking overly personal questions when Ron walked back in, just as Seamus remarked, "It's always the quiet ones, isn't it.  Who would have thought Hermione Granger would have a wild side.  Come on, give us details—what's it like?"

Harry was beat red by now and as he saw Ron turn to face his wardrobe, Harry saw the tips of Ron's ears tingeing red, too.  "A gentleman never kisses and tells," Harry mumbled. 

"Ah, tosh—you!  A gentleman?  Hah!" Seamus called as Harry hastened to head down to the Common Room to leave them behind.  

As he came down the stairs he saw Hermione sitting on the floor, looking harassed and stuffing her books into her bulging book bag. "Oh, Harry, good morning," she said as she sniffed and growled in frustration as all her books just wouldn't fit.

"Here," Harry said, taking one of the books from her.  "Why are you carrying these all around anyway?  You don't have all these classes today.  Hermione—you don't have a time-turner again, do you?"

Hermione still looked harassed and said, "No, I just didn't want to have to come back here during the day, all right.  I've had enough of Lavender and Parvati."

Harry slid onto the floor behind her and slipped his arms around her waist.  He felt her relax immediately into his embrace.  

A gasp from the bottom of the girls' staircase made them both look over to see Lavender grinning madly at them.  Parvati stopped as she too reached the bottom, gasped as she saw them and then adopted the same feral grin.  They both walked over and sat in armchairs looking down with predatory anticipation at Harry and Hermione.  

"Hello, Harry," Lavender cooed. 

"You know, Harry, Hermione just won't give us any good girl talk about what you two were doing out so late last night," Parvati said as if she felt very sorry to confess one of Hermione's shortcomings.

"Yeah," Lavender pouted. "She's trying to keep us convinced she's just a good little girl."

"Hermione?  A good girl?  With all the rules she's broken?" Harry almost laughed at the idea as Hermione whipped her head around to glare at him.

"Ooh!  Hermione Granger has broken _rules_?" Parvati nearly squealed in anticipatory glee.

"Tell us, tell us!" Lavender demanded.

Harry smirked and shook his head.  He turned to look down at Hermione and said, "So they're mad because you won't spill all the juicy details about what you and I do together?"  Hermione nodded sadly and Harry grinned as he kissed her and said, "That's my good girl."  Hermione grinned back at him as Lavender and Parvati huffed in disappointment.  

"Now give me your Transfiguration and Potions books, since we have those together I'll carry them for you," Harry offered as they stood up, ignoring the other two, and left through the portrait hole.  "You go on to breakfast, I'll be down in a minute."  Harry shoved her off and ducked into a loo.  He finally knew what to get Hermione for her birthday and he wasn't going to wait another minute to order it.  He ducked into a stall, flipped through the catalogue until he found what he wanted and then drew out his Gringotts moneybag and pressed the seal of the bag to the seal emblem on the page.  The seals were infused with a soft gold light and Harry felt one burden lift from his shoulders; he finally had her birthday gift ordered.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore greeted as Harry arrived for his session.  "I must apologize—I must be leaving.  In speaking with my friends on the International Confederation of Wizards, we have agreed to convene this afternoon to discuss Cornelius's intentions with Gringotts.  Do you have your recollection of the events you saw from Mister Malfoy's mind?"

Harry nodded, pulled the parchment roll from his bag and proffered it to Professor Dumbledore.  "I added some comments about what their possible meanings are, sir." 

 Dumbledore took the parchment roll and, without looking at it, drew his wand and made a copy of it, handing the original back to Harry as he said, "I will go over it later when I return, but for now, Harry, remember that these memories you've seen are things Mister Malfoy does not want you, _specifically you, to have seen.  That is very important to remember as you try to discern their meaning."_

Harry nodded again as he took the roll back and felt relieved he wouldn't have to go over each and every thing he'd seen with Professor Dumbledore.  (Especially one in particular.)

"Now," Dumbledore said as he pulled a pocket watch out of a deep robe pocket. "I believe you are more than capable of working with the Boggart on your own.  Also, I believe you are prepared to move on to working to project images towards the Boggart, creating it to shift shapes to match the images you project.  Before you start, Harry, make a list of what you want to project so you have the ideas ready in your mind.  Do you have any questions?"

Harry couldn't think of any and was about to leave as Dumbledore said, "Oh yes, Harry, one more thing."  Harry turned around in the doorway and Dumbledore asked, "Was there anything strange about last week for a few days?  Anything that you felt or experienced that seemed…out of the ordinary?"  

Dumbledore was looking at him intently, but Harry couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary. In fact, last week had been a rather lousy week as Hermione had been cool to him for several days after he'd made his blunder about the article.  "No, sir, nothing strange that I can think of."

Harry still hadn't thought of anything that had been strange as two more days passed and he arrived to meet with Dumbledore yet again.  (There was of course, the recent strange development wherein Draco Malfoy, even though he now had his sneering mouth back, would not say a word whatsoever when Harry was even somewhat near.)

"Any news from the Confederation, sir?" Harry asked as he arrived in Dumbledore's office.  

Dumbledore nodded solemnly and gestured for Harry to be seated. "Yes, yes, our meetings were most enlightening."  Dumbledore seated himself across from Harry and waved a tea service tray over, before them.  He urged Harry to help himself as he spoke, "The International Confederation is most alarmed with the news of our Minister's intentions.  Gringotts, as any as I am sure you remember, was founded as a part of the implementation of the original International Statute for Wizarding Secrecy."  Harry recalled that when Wizards decided to segregate themselves from muggle society, they established their own banking system. This decree had been issued just following the end of many fierce Goblin rebellions.  It was with an offer of peace and an offered intent to live harmoniously with Goblins that the Wizarding world handed over the right to be the sole bank in the Wizarding world.

"It is true," Dumbledore went on, "that Cornelius is not the first person to try to lay claim to another's Gringotts vault, but he would be the first to succeed if it happens.  The Confederation is very adamant in their conviction that this is not the time to possibly weaken Wizard-Goblin relations."

A new thought occurred to Harry and he asked, "Sir, do other nations accept that Voldemort has returned?" 

Dumbledore nodded gravely and said, "Yes, the Confederation was split upon believing this last year.  But when Cornelius had to issue his statement to them a few months ago, confirming his return, very few saw any reason to continue doubting.  Cornelius was, after all, the one leading the doubts."  Dumbledore took a sip of tea before commenting, "They were very welcoming when they asked me to return as chairperson to the Confederation."

Dumbledore set down his teacup and looked very tired to Harry.  Dumbledore then said, "There are rumblings abroad if increased dark activity.  Germany is particularly concerned."  Harry felt a pang of dread slice through him at this news.  Dumbledore confirmed Harry's fear when he said, "It would seem that Voldemort has chosen to recruit his forces from outside of Britain."

_He doesn't need an army just to kill me_, Harry thought.  "Sir, what is his goal with all of this?  I mean, besides killing me off.  I know he seeks immortality, but…well, what for?"

Dumbledore looked slightly amused and twinkled for moment and then answered, "Well, Harry, it's an interesting question, isn't it?"  Dumbledore stroked his long silver beard and then said, with a faraway look in his blue eyes, "I believe you must understand not just Lord Voldemort, Harry, but also the man he once was, Tom Riddle, in order to know who and what you are fighting against.  I can help you here, Harry.  I can help you understand who it was I knew as Tom Riddle the student.  I might also suggest speaking with Miss Weasley at some point."

"Ginny?" 

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, she did spend a year in correspondence with his diary, after all.  It might be quite enlightening the things she knows about young Tom."

Harry recalled Ginny's words from last week.  "Ginny said he didn't feel like anyone accepted him here."  Harry saw Dumbledore's face register surprise at this and Harry explained, "I was talking with Ron and Ginny and Hermione about being open to inviting more members of Slytherin House into the DA.  We were talking about not just blindly condemning the lot of them for the House they were sorted into.  Ginny brought up how in the diary, Tom Riddle had told her that other House members hated him for being a Slytherin and how other Slytherins looked down upon him for being a half-blood."  Harry paused in thought for a moment and then mused, "I suppose he might have felt compelled to prove himself to just about everyone."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said.  "Yes, that certainly seems to be a good guess as to his initial motivations.   Well, we shall plan to devote more time to understanding Voldemort in your lessons with me in the future.  I must apologize; I have been quite busy of late and have not had the time to properly ponder your insights into Mister Malfoy's mind, yet.  I hope to do so before out next meeting.  However, for now, I wish to see how well you can project your thoughts with the Boggart now, were there any other questions you had about anything, Harry?"

"Er, well there is one thing, sir," Harry said tentatively.  "I was wondering you see, well, a few days ago when you and I and Professor Snape were in that room after my duel, I was wondering if you had realized that the room had not been silenced or warded.  Hermione, who had been waiting outside, had been able to hear everything, sir."  Harry really couldn't believe this would have slipped both Professor Snape's and Dumbledore's minds, but he had to ask.  It seemed like a serious mistake that could have had terrible repercussions if it had been overlooked in a different situation.  

Dumbledore merely twinkled.  "But surely it saved you time to not have to repeat yourself to Miss Granger, yes?"  Harry nodded dumbly and then Dumbledore added, "And as for after you left the room, Harry, I need you to begin to realize just how much critical information and insight Professor Snape can offer.  As you should have noticed, Harry, he is very different when around just myself."  Harry fought the urge to scowl; of course Snape was different when he was around anyone but Harry.  Dumbledore's stern look made Harry feel reprimanded, though.  "It is very imperative, Harry, that you and Professor Snape do eventually learn to work together.  If something were to happen to myself, I would no longer be able to be your go-between.  Hopefully, you can agree that the welfare of the Order is more important than grudges."  Dumbledore looked very weary as he remarked, "It takes an awful lot of energy, Harry, to maintain a grudge.  Professor Snape has spent a very large portion of his life bearing grudges.  I would not do well to recommend that for anyone; it makes for very little time leftover to enjoy just living."

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in the Defense classroom while his third years took their second year level examination.  It was entirely a theoretical exam and left Harry with nothing to do but sit in front and occasionally make sure no one was trying to cheat.  

He spent the time going over the Gryffindor Quidditch Playbook and wondering when Ron was going to give up the cold front towards him and Hermione.  Harry supposed it was hard for him to see them occasionally holding hands or whispering together in a manner more intimate than just friends, but still.  If Ron was any kind of friend at all, he would never just throw it all away simply because he was sore about being rejected by Hermione and then being offended because he didn't get an engraved announcement the minute Harry and her had gotten together.  Harry resolved to try to get Ron to speak to him about quidditch sometime soon to try to mend things between them.  

The opportunity presented itself late that evening in the Common Room when Ron was left sitting near Ginny and Katie and just a few other team members.

"Hey guys," Harry said, sliding into a chair across from Ron, who looked up only briefly before returning to whatever he was working on.  "Just a reminder, first practice is the Saturday after next.  Katie, can you be prepared to help the other Chasers learn their plays?"  

"Aye, aye, Captain," Katie said with a mock salute.  

"Ron? Can you help me go through the book and pick out anything we might try to use against Ravenclaw?"

Ron seemed to turn a slight pink color at this and mumbled something without looking up.  Ginny said, "Well, we'll leave you two to it, then," and grabbed Katie and Zoe and dragged them away to leave Ron and Harry alone. 

Ron was now fully red in the face and Harry tried to casually bring out the playbook and muttered the password to it.  "Did you want to look through the book again?" Harry asked lightly as he laid the book upon the table.

Ron looked like he was deciding between two different chess pieces to sacrifice and eventually set down his quill and slid the book towards him and began flipping through the pages.  

"Do you know who their new Beaters are yet?" Ron asked casually after a few minutes of silence.

Harry inwardly felt a huge sigh of relief at Ron's willingness to talk quidditch.  "Er, no, not really.  Do you think that the Hawkshead might be able to intimidate the Beaters since they're new?"

Ron grunted noncommittally.  "This Waggle and Weave play here by our Beaters might keep them out of the game," Ron suggested pointing at a page in the book.

"Here, mark it," Harry said scooting closer to the table and giving Ron a scrap of parchment to hold the page.  

After a about a quarter hour of casually suggesting plays to consider, Harry finally pulled up his courage and said, "So, I was wondering…if you might want to let me apologize…"  Ron seemed to freeze for a second and then flipped the page of the book and didn't say a word.  

Harry decided it was a good start that Ron hadn't stormed off already and pushed onward. "You see, er, well, I feel really bad for not knowing how to tell you about…well, about, you know, me and Hermione.  You see, it wasn't planned at all…it all just sort of happened one night at…at Headquarters and well…neither of us knew where it was going to go then and we didn't want to tell anyone if we didn't even know what it meant, so we kind of just kept quiet.  Then when school started, you…well, I mean…" Ron was flipping through pages without really reading them now and Harry wanted to hurry up and get it all out before Ron left.  "We thought you might be angry about the news and we weren't really sure we wanted the rest of the school to know.  Plus Ginny had been asking us to keep up the ruse that she and I were…I mean she was using it to, you know, write to Dean and stuff without you caring about it and all.  We were trying to pick the right time to tell you…I tried that one time after I'd just told Krum…"  

Harry looked searchingly across at Ron who was studiously not looking up from the book.  Harry gulped and asked a question that just occurred to him, "Do you…do you even still want to be friends?"  It had just occurred to Harry that maybe Ron didn't care enough to want to get over this fight.  It was a thought that felt like a sharp kick from Dudley right into Harry's stomach.

Ron fidgeted with a page of the book for a minute and then just when Harry was preparing to hear the worst answer (or none at all), Ron heaved a sigh and said, "I just wish things were the same as last year."

Harry looked up sharply and said, "Last year sucked."

Ron looked up, surprised and then said, "Well the year before then."

"That one wasn't all that much better," Harry said consideringly.  He and Ron were at least making skittish eye contact now.

Ron actually quirked up one side of his mouth as he offered, "How about third year then?  That one wasn't so bad, we won the cup."

"Third year sounds good."  Their eyes met across the table as Harry grinned.  It only lasted a moment, before Ron looked back down at the table, all traces of any humour gone.  But at least Harry now knew Ron still wanted to be friends.  "I'm really sorry, Ron," Harry said quietly.

Ron chewed on a fingernail and then said, "Everything feels like it's changed."

"Friends are still friends, though, aren't they?" Harry said, hoping Ron thought he was making some semblance of sense.

Ron shrugged.  "Sometimes…sometimes I just feel like I want to go on like nothing's different.  Be friends again and all….then sometimes….well, sometimes I want to just curse someone, you know?"  

Harry wasn't sure he knew exactly what Ron was talking about but said, "Yeah, the being friends part is good.  And…and as long as you curse Malfoy, that part's not so bad…"

A flicker of a grin flitted across Ron's face.  "You and I," he motioned between Harry and himself.  "We're not so bad, you know?"  Harry grinned at this.  "But, well, when she's around—it's all different."  

Harry's grin fell but at least, he felt they were making progress.  If he and Ron could at least be civil and friendly again, then it was only a matter of time before the old trio was back in place.  Granted, Ron would have to be the one to initiate making amends with Hermione when the time came, but him talking to Harry was a good start.  "Well, then, I still think you and I should be friends again.   Eventually, we'll all be friends again."

"I don't know about that part, Harry."  Ron closed the book and set it down.  "I don't know… I can handle…this," he motioned between them again.  "But I don't know … I …"

"Okay, well, that's a start, at least."  Harry swallowed and decided that they had at least made progress.  "We're friends then?" he asked.  "You won't ignore me and if…if you feel the urge to beat me in chess or talk quidditch or whatever, you'll talk to me again?"  Ron quirked his mouth and nodded.  "No matter if I'm sitting in our dorm alone or across the room beside Hermione?" 

Ron shrugged.

"Hey, Harry!" Colin Creevey flew into the seat beside Harry, effectively interrupting the rest of Ron and Harry's conversation.  "Guess who just got chosen to be the next quidditch commentator?  Guess!"

"Er…" Harry looked to Ron for help.  

Ron just grimaced and stood up, saying, "I think I'll head up to bed."

"Guess, Harry!  It's me!  Bet you're surprised, aren't you, Harry?  I know I was.  But you know, McGonagall said I could have the job since no one else wanted to do it.  I was thinking I might try to do some interviews…give me material to quote from during the games—what do you think, Harry?"

Harry just groaned as Colin dogged his steps up to the dormitory where Harry was quite content to trade Colin's nattering for the soft and soothing voices that just seemed to live to whisk Harry off to a peaceful slumber.

"Good morning," Harry said as he snuck a kiss in on Hermione's neck as she recopied her notes from last week's Healing class.  There were only a few people in the common room this morning as Harry slid into the seat beside Hermione at their favorite table and grinned at her.

She looked back at him warily.  "Good morning.  What is up with you today?"

Harry's eyes shot open in surprise and his grin grew wider.  He batted his eyelashes innocently and said, "Can't I wish you a good morning? Do I even want to try to wish you a happy birthday?"

Hermione tried to hide the smile that played at her mouth by Harry still saw it and caught her face with his hand and drew her to him for yet another kiss.  "Harry Birthday, Hermione," he murmured.  

"You already wished me a happy birthday last night, Harry.  After midnight," Hermione protested weakly as he nuzzled her ear.  

"So?  Besides, I still have to give you your birthday gift.  You do want it don't you?" Harry teased, grinning against her neck.  

Hermione pulled back and looked at Harry squarely.  He knew she had to have been going spare wondering what he had gotten for her (well, he knew this only because Ginny told him so).  Hermione was trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably as her one foot was bouncing with agitation and she couldn't stop from biting her lower lip.  

Harry grinned, "How does it feel to be the first one to turn of age?  I bet you want to sneak off to Hogsmeade and curse people randomly now, don't you?"  Hermione was scrunching up her nose at his stalling and he laughed, saying. "You want your gift then?" She frowned and nodded once, trying not to smile.  

Harry grinned again and brought out a small silver box from his robe pocket.  "It's not what it looks like," he said immediately.  The box looked exactly like a small jewellery gift box and Harry was slightly disturbed that it came packaged as thus.  "And, I should tell you now, that I also wanted to do something else for you, but seeing as we have absolutely no free time today, I was hoping we could do it tomorrow."  He cut Hermione off before she even asked and said, "I already know you decided to wait on your Apparition test since there isn't much point in being licensed in a hurry while you're at Hogwarts.  Professor Dumbledore told me you had changed from hoping to take it tomorrow, so, you have no excuse to not be free tomorrow.  Plus, it's my last Saturday without having a quidditch practice so I wanted to make the best of it." 

Hermione couldn't help but smile up at Harry and said, "Are you going to tell me what you have planned to make the best of it?"

"Sure—we're going to spend the whole day in the library!" Harry said as he grinned widely.  Hermione smacked him on the arm and he laughed.  "Alright, I guess I'll have to think of something else to do.  Now you'll have to wait."  It wasn't elaborate, but Harry had wanted to somehow plan for some alone time with just the two of them.  He had asked dobby to prepare a picnic for two for the afternoon and Dobby had promptly taken off on the whole idea.  He assured Harry that Dobby would prepare a most romantic and perfect afternoon for Harry Potter and Harry Potter's friend.  

Hermione was looking sternly at him and she plucked the silver box from Harry's hand.  "Can I open this or not, now?"  She didn't even wait for Harry to say okay before she lifted the top of the box.  As the box was opened, it grew and expanded about ten times in size making Hermione gasp at the unexpectedly large box now sitting in her lap.  

"I would have warned you about that," Harry said watching her with amusement.  

Hermione looked away from Harry and down into the box and pulled out a leather bag.  Harry figured he'd have to explain the odd choice of gift but was surprised when Hermione rushed out, "Oh my god, it's the Notably Toteable Library Satchel!"  Harry could not believe she actually knew what it was.  

She gushed on, "Oh, it's got six different compartments!  It can hold over a ten stone in books without weighing any more than it does empty!  Oh, and look, this is the model with the instant-shrink features and the hidden Mokeskin pockets—oh, Harry," she said, pausing to look up at him with wide eyes. "This must have cost a _fortune_!  I've looked at them in Flourish & Blotts nearly every time I've ever…oh, but they've always been too…Harry..." she shook her head, "You shouldn't have…"

"I can't believe you know what it is," Harry said with disbelief.  "I thought I'd have to explain…I thought you might think it was too impersonal…"

"Ooh," Hermione said in almost a sob as she cupped Harry's face in one hand while she traced the strap on the leather bag.

Harry watched her look adoringly at the bag and said, "See, I knew you carry around more than the number of book that will actually fit into your bag now, plus, I've seen you have to mend it more times than I could count.  I saw this and knew you'd like it but…"

"Oh, I do," Hermione said, picking up the bag and flipping it over.  She looked back at Harry and said in a very serious tone, "It's just an awful lot of money, Harry.  I would never have asked for anything this expensive."

"Hermione," Harry said, levelly his gaze at her, "you've seen my inventory statements from Gringotts—you know I've got more than I know what to do with.  Besides, you'll use it, won't you?"

Hermione looked longingly at the bag in her hands and said, "You're absolutely sure?"

"Positive," Harry said, tucking a strand of hair back around her ear.  "Don't doubt me."

Dinner that evening was interrupted by a loud bag and succession of mini explosions over the Slytherin table.  As Harry and his fellow Gryffindors looked over to see what was making all the noise, they saw a flurry of silver and green Weasley Wizard Whizbangs (or Whizbangles as the miniature version was called) going off. There were the same as Harry remembered from his birthday party in the summer.  A set then exploded over the Ravenclaw table (blue and silver) and then another over the Hufflepuff table (black and gold).  Miniature Catherine wheels were now spinning out of the sparks and pops, leaving adverts lines trailing behind.  'Weasley Wizard Whizbangs—The Gift That Just Keeps on Giving!' and 'Say it with a BANG!'  

A set then erupted amid a shower of gold and red sparks over the Gryffindor table and they looked up and saw yet more adverts for WWW.  'Don't Mangle it—Say it with a BANGLE, you Twit!'  Then they saw one that made Harry nudge Hermione and point; it said, 'Birthday BANGS to The Birthday Girl!'

"Did you do this?" she asked watching the sparklers whiz by and begin to fade away.  

Harry shook his head and looked across at Ginny who looked just as surprised.  He knew there was no way Ron would have done it.  "Must have been Fred and George," he said.  "They must be here for the meeting tonight," he added in an undertone.  "Trust them not to miss a chance to advertise."

Sure enough, when Harry and Hermione entered the antechamber off the Great Hall, Fred and George where there and looked to be getting a stern lecture from Professor McGonagall.

"Professor, we were just trying to wish a good friend a happy birthday," George whinged.  

"It's not like they turned the Slytherins into yipping pug dogs," Fred protested.

"Hey—Harry!  We heard you did a revealing spell on dear old Pansy and showed her true form!"

"Mister Weasley!" McGonagall huffed at the twins who were now snickering at their own jokes.

"Why aren't you two working tonight?" Harry asked.

The twins looked at each other in mock hurt and then turned to Harry and said, "What?"

"You don't want us here?"

"You'd rather we leave?"  

McGonagall muttered something that sounded a lot like, "…doesn't sound half bad…"

"Professor!" George said in indignation.

"We heard that!" Fred echoed.

"I'm truly wounded—brother—we're not wanted!"

McGonagall then turned towards and Harry and then said quite clearly, "Potter, I give you permission to hex their mouths off like you did to Malfoy."

It turned out that Fred and George were at the meeting to hand out a few of their products.  Remus, they said, was watching the store for the night in Diagon Alley.  (Apparently, they had made a deal to sign him on as a part-time employee as he was able to give them ideas from things the Marauders had done in school and also help out at the store when needed.)  

They brought their Extendable Ears and a new product called Enhancing Eyes that let someone see around corners and into dark, dimly lit nooks, and a tray of new edible jokes.  It was actually Snape who was most interested (in other words, he didn't sneer outright) in the twins' crafted treats.  There were Confundus Confections that caused whomever ate one to become Confounded.  There was a Petrification Potion that they actually asked Snape to help with; the twins said that, ideally, they wanted to make it into a powder or something more easily administered.  They also had a new line called Truly Telling Treats and Teas that had a miniscule amount of truth serum within them to enable about one question's worth of truth to be forced upon whomever consumed one. It was such a small amount that it would be undetectable to even a trained nose like Snape's overly large one.   

The twins also told everyone that they were working on an alarm system for homes and businesses to keep out unwanted guests.  Apparently, it involved the use of several failed experiments and a nasty combination of Provisional hexes.

After the twins' presentation of their items, Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "Well, any other questions, I think, can be pushed to the end of this meeting."   Snape was the last to set down a Confundus Confection as Dumbledore began, "First, an update, Hagrid, as most of you already know, is about to leave out on a journey to contact Giant communities in Scandinavia.  He just got word today of his journey's route and we can expect him to depart before this time next week."

Hagrid had already told this to Harry after Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon.  Grawp was apparently very excited to be travelling again with Hagrid. They were going to be taking a portkey made by Dumbledore to the very north-eastern reach of Scotland and then catch a ship to Norway.  Harry was very sad to have to see Hagrid off onto another journey but on the other hand, he knew their classes could only improve.  That afternoon, Hagrid had got nearly half a dozen of Aragog's children to pay the class a visit without trying to eat them.  They had to be reminded of this a few times however and Ron had seemed extremely thankful that Harry had a Skivving Snackbox to lend to him so Ron could fake a nosebleed and leave before the lesson truly got started.  

"Second, both the Wizengamot and the International Confederation of Wizards have convened this week to discuss the possible issues with our Minister's intents towards Gringotts.  It is very clear, from both councils, that the current treaty we have with Gringotts, is not to be disregarded nor may be amended by or for any one nation."  

Dumbledore nodded at Kingsley and said, "Amelia and I spoke and she is prepared to enforce the Councils' decrees if necessary.  Also, we spoke about her wish to be included in the Order.  I informed her that it is most likely that she would be a welcome addition to our…intelligence, and therefore, I promised to alert her when she may expect to be inducted.  I also ask, anyone else who knows of someone they wish to sponsor to pledge for membership, please send me a parchment about who it is and you can let them know they shall pledge on Halloween.  The meeting will be held in Hogsmeade that evening.  Details shall be forthcoming."

 Harry already knew most of the stuff Dumbledore was going over and most of the things that anyone else had to bring up.  Dumbledore had taken to forwarding a copy of any parchments received about the Order, to Harry.  

As soon as Dumbledore had wrapped up his summary of activities, Snape and McGonagall both returned to Fred and George's table of items.  Harry marvelled at how appreciative they both seemed of the twins' talents now that they weren't merely being used to disrupt classes.  

"Harry," Dumbledore said, calling Harry's attention to him.  "I just wanted to remind you, the Goblins are still awaiting word from you.  Perhaps you might draft a letter for them and we can go over it Sunday afternoon before you owl it off."

"Oh, er, right.  I can do that," Harry said, fully intending on getting Hermione to help him with it.

Dumbledore twinkled knowingly.  "One other thing, Harry, I have read your summary of the event with Mister Malfoy."  Dumbledore paused and looked around the room, his twinkling gaze resting upon the twins across the room.  "I think your speculations about their meanings are a very good start.  I'd like to go over this as well with you on Sunday."  Harry nodded; he'd been expecting this since they had not had a chance to go over it yet together.  

"I also believe," Dumbledore, said slowly, "that it might be most helpful to have Professor Snape sit in on that discussion.  His insight and knowledge of Mister Malfoy far exceeds our own."  

Harry was now not looking forward to Sunday at all.

  
~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~

*          ~            *            ~            *

**_Reminder_**:  You may always find chapters posted on my Yahoo Group.  The website is linked on my bio page.  The Yahoo Group name is: HP_AoF.  Cheers!


	29. Chapter 32 Bread and Circuses

Author's Note:  This past weekend (Thanksgiving holiday in the US) has been all screwed up and has severely cut into my ability to devote the normal time to writing.  (Grumbles more about holidays and idiotic family members…)  I had twice as much planned out for this chapter, but just couldn't get the second half of it all together smoothly without rushing it and possibly bungling it.  I know you all want to read something and I shan't let you starve!  I'm basically placating you with the Snape/Harry/Dumbledore meeting.  Here you go.  I'll call it Bread and Circuses because it's what you get to make you happy for now.  

Chapter 32 Bread and Circuses 

Saturday had dawned bright and sunny, the day more reminiscent of midsummer then mid-September.  Harry and Hermione enjoyed their day of carefree bliss in a magically concealed enclosure deep within the gardens and prepared by Dobby himself.  Neither would let the other's thoughts wander past the moment as they convincingly pretended that the world did not exist outside of their little magical garden space.  

Outside the fragrant walls of honeysuckle and late summer roses, there was a war brewing.  Inside, there were only smiles, kisses, warm touches and tender nothings whispered into nuzzled ears; well, and a few books—it was after all, Hermione's day and she did insist they at least be prepared to do some revision. 

Come Sunday morning, Hermione was determined catch up to her schedule of work and had commandeered an entire table in the corner of the Gryffindor Common room.  Harry was trying to take the time to complete a Charms essay on Parasitic Enchantments, which were enchantments placed upon objects that skived their magical energy from magical people that were in near proximity to it.  However, Harry's mind kept wandering toward his impending afternoon meeting with Dumbledore.  No, not just with Professor Dumbledore, but with the lovely and charming (_gag!_) countenance of Snape, as well.

"Quit chewing on your quill, already!" Hermione hissed as Harry's mind slipped yet again to the looming meeting.

His eyes flickered back from their unfocused state and he tried to read the last few lines he had written on his essay.  It was no use; all he could see was Snape's sneering face saying that he should be Obliviated because he wasn't trustworthy enough to not try to humiliate Malfoy.  Hah!  Snape calling Harry untrustworthy? The irony was too much.

"Quit scowling," Hermione admonished him.  "You're starting to look like Snape when you do that."  This earned her a scowl of her very own.  Hermione rolled her eyes and said airily, "You know, if you are so insistent upon holding this grudge against Professor Snape—"

"Me?  I'm not the one holding a grudge!" Harry said incredulously.

Hermione gave him a pointed look and after he shut up, she said, "Well, if you really wanted to make him look bad, Harry, it would be easy."  Seeing Harry's interest in the way this comment was going, Hermione went on, "All you need to do is keep yourself calm and act courteous and professional when you are with him today.  If you maintain your cool, then you will make him seem like the childish one."  Hermione paused, waiting for the appeal of this to sink in with Harry.  "See, Dumbledore wants you both to get along, right?  Well, you can bet you're not the only one he's asked to behave in a more respectful manner. Harry, you can gain much more if you humor Professor Dumbledore's request and act courteous and respectful.  You'll be able to make Dumbledore happy, you'll probably make Snape irate if you manage it and make him look terrible as he gets frustrated by your lack of normal hostility towards him, and, who knows, you might even get some helpful answers out of him before the afternoon is over."

Harry watched Hermione go back to writing her fifth scroll of Transfiguration notes.  _Sure it sounds good in theory, _he thought.  _And really, it isn't that far from the truth; Snape is always the one who has started things between us.  Maybe if I ignore him, he'll just try even harder and make an even bigger arse of himself.  Harry grinned at this thought and said, "You know, Hermione, you may just be onto something there."  Harry now found it much easier to discuss the six diagnostic steps to recognising Parasitic Enchantments._

"Canary Creams," Harry announced to the gargoyle after getting the new password from the droll portrait in the hall.  Apparently, Dumbledore was acquainting himself with the twins' line of treats.  

Harry rode the spiral staircase up and found the door to Dumbledore's office open just a crack and he could hear voices engaged in a conversation.   He thankfully noted, none sounded like Snape.

"…at the close of your meeting, it was," one female voice said clearly.

"Yes, yes, I had tears, it was so touching," said another female voice that sounded on the verge of tears just now.

Harry wasn't sure whether to enter and intrude upon the conversation so he hesitated in opening the door.  

"Tripe!  This is nonsense and you're a fool to even think on it, Dumbledore!" said the voice of Phineas Nigellus.    

Harry now suspected it was the portraits who were conversing and he knocked softly upon the door just as Snape's louder-than-usual voice startled Harry from behind, "Eavesdropping on the Headmaster's office, now, are we, Potter?"

"Come in, come in," rang Dumbledore's voice from the office at hearing Harry's knock and no doubt, Snape's accusation.  Dumbledore beamed at them both as they entered his office.  

Harry ignored Snape's comment completely and greeted Dumbledore saying, "Good afternoon, Professor."  

Dumbledore beamed at Harry and ambled over towards the fireplace and conjured a third armchair.  "Severus, join us over here; it's much more relaxed and informal this way."  

Harry seated himself as usual and glanced about to see Phineas eyeing him with one raised eyebrow. Harry turned back to see Snape glare at the overstuffed armchair before begrudgingly sinking into it.  Dumbledore waved a tea tray over to them and helped himself to a plate of ginger newts as he asked Harry, "Did Miss Granger have an enjoyable birthday?"

Harry fought the blush that threatened him upon the question but then quickly convinced himself that Dumbledore couldn't possibly know _everything_ that went on all about and around the castle.  "Er, yes, I believe she did.  A day full of classes; what more could she want?"

Dumbledore twinkled merrily as he nibbled his biscuit and then commented, "Oh, some time away from the demands of school and spent with one she holds dear to her heart, might also be something she would wish for."  

Harry lost the fight to prevent a blush and tugged at his suddenly constrictive collar as Snape impatiently said, "Headmaster, could we spare the dalliances upon Granger and Potter's hormone-infused love affair?  You asked me here to discuss Potter's violation of Mister Malfoy."

Dumbledore swallowed a sip of tea and still cheery, said, "I don't believe those were my exact choice of words, Severus, but I do apologize for my digression."  The aged wizard then turned to Harry and said, "I wished to have us participate in a civil and intelligent discussion regarding the recent insights we've gained into young Malfoy's mind and doings."  

Snape snorted derisively and Harry felt a thrill of triumph course through him as Dumbledore levelled a look at Snape that threatened to make sure the conversation remained civil or else.  Harry merely looked on, eager to begin now and hopefully watch Snape hang himself with his own rope.  

"You've read my summary of events I saw, sir?" Harry asked Dumbledore.  

Dumbledore nodded and pulled a scroll from within his plum colored robes.  "Yes, however, I only had opportunity to invite the Professor here to join us this morning."  Dumbledore separated two parchments from the roll and handed one to Snape.  "Here you go, Severus; I apologize for not getting this to you earlier."  

Snape gingerly plucked the parchment from Dumbledore's outstretched hand and looked down his hooked nose to disdainfully peruse the parchment.  

Harry shifted to make himself more comfortable in his seat and smiled across at Dumbledore's twinkling look.  

"This!" Snape sputtered as he read, glaring at the parchment with narrowed eyes.  "This is—" he snapped up his head to look at Dumbledore, "—there is no proof!  Potter could have made this up!  Surely…"  Harry saw Snape's face grow red as he sputtered on and then stopped, clamped his mouth shut and glared across at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore smiled indulgently and said, "Severus, you were present when the spell was cast by Harry upon Mister Malfoy."

"Yes, but how do I…how can I trust…" Snape seemed to be tried to keep his anger in check and Harry watched with something akin to amusement.

Harry then spoke amenably and said, "Would you care to see for yourself, Professor?  Look through my own mind so you can know I am not lying?"  

Snape's lip curled into a sneer at the offer as Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye, Dumbledore beaming at him.  

"Unfortunately, Harry," Dumbledore said, "that is not the best way to share the memory of what one has seen from another's mind."  Harry strongly suspected Dumbledore had anticipated this event.

Snape muttered something like, "As if he didn't know that when he offered."

Dumbledore went on, "However, I made sure in our last lesson to firm up your projection skills so that you might be able to now utilize the Pensieve for a purpose such as this.  Hmm," he tapped a long finger upon his lip in thought and then rose and said, "I believe I left it upstairs.  Ah, you two stay here while I fetch it.  It'll only be a moment."  Dumbledore rose then quite quickly and retreated up a set of stairs and around a tall bookshelf.

Harry eyed the tray of ginger newts and tea but held back because he could feel Snape's presence watching him closely.  Harry busied himself with straightening the pleats of his robe that hung over his knees.  He felt, with relief, Snape return his gaze to the parchment.

After an interminable amount of time, punctuated by cool silence, Snape spoke casually, nearly startling Harry, as he did so.  "I see here, you've made a note that you believe Bellatrix Lestrange may have been casting the Cruciatus Curse upon Mister Malfoy in order to train him to properly cast the spell?"  

Harry gently smoothed a hand down his thigh and watched the pleats disappear as he said, "It seemed like a possibility…sir."

Slowly, Snape said, "Mmm, but you've not postulated a connection this might have to you.  There has to be a reason why Mister Malfoy did not want you, particularly, to know about this event, no?" Snape's questioning reminded Harry of when he would corner a student in class (usually him) with a question to which the student couldn't possibly ever know the answer.  It reminded Harry of a cat who'd cornered their prey and meant to play with their helpless victim before ending their torture.  

Harry remained silent.  He knew of one possible connection but did not feel the need to share this with Snape.  

"Perhaps," Snape went on silkily, "Mister Malfoy was blaming you for his having to endure the curse."  Silence.  Harry felt Snape watching him closely.  "Perhaps…Mister Malfoy was indeed being trained to properly cast the curse and perhaps his success, or lack thereof, was being compared to another wizard of his same age."  

Harry suddenly got the distinct impression that Snape knew all the connection that Harry thought quite likely.  It seemed apparent that Snape had full knowledge now all about Harry's attempt to cast the Unforgivable on Bellatrix last spring.  It only made sense; he realized quickly, that Bellatrix and Voldemort would have told others about this event and surely Snape in order to give him ammunition to use against Harry.  _Well, there's nothing to be done for it now.  Dumbledore already knows.  _

"You're being rather quiet, Potter; is there a reason you've not answered me?" Snape whispered with a hint of malicious glee.

Harry faced him and clearly said, "You've not asked me a question, sir."

Snape crossed his legs elegantly and let his eyes linger upon the parchment before him before drilling his gaze into Harry's and asking, "Answer me this, does the Headmaster know about your own attempt at using this same Unforgivable curse just a few months ago?"

Somehow, Harry had been expecting this and did not falter as he replied, "Yes."

Snape didn't miss a beat as he then said, "And just a mere few day after that failure of yours, which is no doubt been shrugged off as 'in the heat of the moment', you were ready, perhaps yet again, to feel enough hatred towards Mister Malfoy to such a degree that you were—what was it you said?  Ah, yes, merely deciding which curse you use on him.  Tell me Potter, was it this same curse or a different Unforgivable that you would have cast then…in the heat of the moment, of course?"

Harry recalled the afternoon just two days after Sirius' death at the Ministry when Draco Malfoy had tried to threaten him in the Entrance Hall and Harry had been fully prepared to curse Malfoy to hell and back without a care in the world.  But it wasn't as Snape had implied; that Harry hated Malfoy to such a degree that he would have cursed him then or that he would now lie merely to humiliate him.  "I believe, sir, that there is a difference between feeling hatred enough to curse another and feeling apathetic enough to disregard the consequences."  Harry refused to back down from Snape's judgemental grin.  

"Here we are," Dumbledore rang out as he returned carrying the stone basin carved with runes.  "Now, Harry, all you need to do is hold your wand to your temple as you project forth your memory of the four different scenes you glimpsed from Mister Malfoy's mind.  The thoughts will then be visualized as silver strands.  I believe you have seen me do this before; you just deposit those strands into the basin.  Then we can project the thoughts forth for each of us all to observe."

Dumbledore set the basin down between them and then conversationally said, "Harry has progressed extremely well with his mastery of Occlumency, Severus.  Even you would be impressed."

Harry had leaned forward now and withdrew his wand.  "Just the memories from his mind, sir?"

Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, just the memories from Mister Malfoy's mind.  It will allow us all to then see the same thing that you saw when you originally cast the spell. This is also a very good tool to make use of whenever you need to ponder the meaning of a thought you've glimpsed through Legilimency.  It, of course, cannot replicate the emotions you might have felt at that the time, but it will allow you to go over the memory with a more observant and critical eye."

Harry ignored Snape as he watched critically, trying to appear disinterested, and focused his mind upon the memories from Malfoy's mind.  He then touched his wand to his temple.  He felt the memories in his mind then gather where the wand was touching and he could feel them being extracted as he drew the wand tip away from his head.  Harry opened his eyes to see the silver tendrils cling to the wand as they left his head and then dropped into the swirling silvery mist of the basin.  

"There you go, perfect!" Dumbledore beamed.  Harry couldn't help but grin at his first time using a Pensieve for his own thoughts.  "Now, Harry, just look down into the basin and as you recognize your thought, touch your wand to it.  It will then be replayed for all of us to see."  

Harry did as instructed and soon he saw the face of Bellatrix Lestrange rise up from the basin as she pointed a wand at Draco Malfoy, making him writhe and scream upon a stone floor.  The mist then changed to show Lucius Malfoy look with disgust down at his son and then striking Draco across the face while Draco was wearing Slytherin's silver and green quidditch robes.  The mist shifted a third time then to show Draco Malfoy alone, nude, pale skin lying on a dark green duvet, surrounded by dark green bed hangings as he wanked, biting his pillow with a grimace upon his face.  And lastly, the mist changed to show the red eyes and thin-lipped mouth of Lord Voldemort as Draco, shaking, bowed slowly and kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robes.

They watched it again and then for a third time.  Harry felt more than a bit uncomfortable being in the same room as they each watched a fellow classmate of his in such a compromising position.  It was uncomfortable enough trying to think on it in his own mind and what it had to mean, but it was near unbearable in the presence of Snape and Dumbledore.  

"Do you need to see it again, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.  

_Please, god, no_, Harry prayed.

Snape must have shook his head no because Dumbledore then motioned for Harry to replace his thoughts back into his head and asked, "So, Severus, with what you've seen here now and from the emotions associated with these instances, what do you think we might make of them?  Harry has already noted some possibilities that have occurred to him.  What are your thoughts?"

Snape shifted in his seat and sighed heavily before he said, "The time with his father--that was after Potter beat Malfoy yet again in quidditch, allowing Gryffindor to win the Quidditch Cup.  I believe it was…three years ago now.  I saw it happen."  He looked down at the parchment of Harry's notes and then said, "Lucius has always had a sore spot about his son never being able to best Potter."  Snape sent a glare at Harry as he said this.  "Surely Potter has done enough towards Mister Malfoy to garner his share of rage and hate; the derision he's suffered from his father's disappointment, however, I imagine, has added a great deal more fuel to that hatred."  Snape's lip curled as he leaned forward and his glare intensified towards Harry as he sneered, "To you, it may seem a little schoolboy rivalry but to Draco Malfoy, you are his nemesis and every success you enjoy over him is, in the eyes of Lucius Malfoy, yet another failure of his only son."

Harry had to try very hard not to go off on this.  He knew perfectly well that Malfoy liked to fancy himself Harry's rival and this fact had gotten beyond the point of irritating to Harry.  He had a Dark Lord he was destined to rival thanks to a prophecy; did they all really think he needed a petty schoolboy rivalry as well?  Struggling to keep his voice even, Harry said, "It's not my fault he's always lost to me."

Snape's eyes flared glinted dangerously as he hissed, "What about in your little duel then, hmm?  It's your fault he lost to you there and not only did he lose, you stole any chance he had to lose with any sort of honour!"

Harry screwed his face up with disbelief and confusion.  "What?"

Snape leaned closer towards Harry and went on, "You stole his honour when you broke into his mind and reduced him to cowering on the floor!"  Harry thought this was crazy, as he believed Malfoy threw any honour and sense he had when the prat refused to concede.  "Yes, but you think you've done nothing wrong, do you, Potter?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said resolutely.

"You!" Snape snapped his mouth shut and after a quick glance at Dumbledore who was watching them closely, said, "You stole any chance Draco Malfoy had of conceding the match with honour when you refused to duel him properly."

Harry did not hide the confusion he felt as he said, "I still do not understand; no one else had a problem conceding when they knew they were beat."

"No one else cared to prove themselves against you, Potter!  No one else had as much to prove against you!  He even told you what to do!  But, no, you refused to allow him to endure any sort of test of his courage, resiliency or honour!  Why didn't you just curse him or hex him?  Let him take the torture so he could show himself as capable of withstanding it and then, and only then, would he be allowed to concede with honour and his dignity intact!"

"That's mad," Harry said.  As far as Harry was concerned, Malfoy had about as much dignity and honour as a Mountain Troll.

"That's the honour of the classic Wizards' Duel, Potter!  You've read enough to be able to analyse and critique everyone else's duels but you fail so miserably to understand your own breech of conduct?  With all your training and teaching Defense to other students you mean to tell me you're so blind and naïve when it comes to the codes of conduct when it comes to a Wizards' Duel?"

"Severus," Dumbledore said mildly, "I do believe we all have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to seeing our own faults."

"What?  No, I've never--no one ever said—those weren't the rules you stated for the duels in class!  And they were hardly _classic_ by any means—groups and all, not even evenly matched in number—how was I to know?"  Harry had half a mind to believe Snape was making this all up.  No one had said anything about this to him before now.

"How were you to _know, Potter?  Can't you read?" Snape sneered._

"Read?  Of course, I read--how else would I have known how to counter his curses?  But I haven't been wasting my time learning the rules and honour codes of _classical duelling_—I think Voldemort's quite given up on trying to duel with me after the last time!  I've been busy reading more _practical_ stuff, like Duelling With Wizards Who Play Dirty!  And it's a good thing, too, that's were I read about the _Apotosus curse."  Harry was just gathering steam now and he went on, "The rules of the duels, as you set forth, were to make your opponents concede—Malfoy was not about to concede no matter what I did to him; I could see it in his eyes.  And if Malfoy thinks he's my rival and wants to blame me for his inability to beat me at anything, then perhaps he should choose his rivals more carefully.  I have no problem whatsoever if he ignores me for the next two years here.  I've got quite enough to deal with without his egocentric tantrums and petty unrequited rivalry."_

Harry couldn't believe Dumbledore was allowing him go on like this but sure enough, Snape was allowed to counter again with, "And so, after seeing that one of the things Draco Malfoy least wants _you_ to know about is just _why he would feel such shame when…__pleasuring himself, perhaps, Potter, you might now begin to realize why ignoring Mister Malfoy is quite possibly the most insulting thing _you_ could possibly do?"  _

Snape lifted one eyebrow at this and Harry felt his jaw drop in horror.  "You can't mean--!  No!  There's no way…"  Harry's voice dropped away as he saw the pointed looks both Dumbledore and Snape were now giving him.  _Noooo, why?  Oh, no.  "Surely there's got to be other possibilities for…that…" Harry protested weakly._

Dumbledore merely reached for another ginger newt as he said, "I believe I mentioned earlier this year, Harry, how I thought young Malfoy was rather obsessed with you.  Now, how about these other two thoughts—Severus, I'm most interested in finding out the meaning and purpose of this meeting between Draco and Lord Voldemort.  Have you any ideas?"

Snape seemed to be much more comfortable now that Harry was truly squicked out by the notion that Draco Malfoy wanked off while thinking of him.  "No, sir, I know of no meeting such as the one we've just now seen.  I believe it is very possible that the Dark Lord would not wish to Mark any student here even if he had taken them into his service.  He would not wish to risk such an open and blatant mark of allegiance where it could so easily be exposed.  It is possible…that Draco has entered, unofficially of course, into his service."  Snape tapped his fingers upon his knee and said, "It is disconcerting that I was not made aware of this, if this is indeed the case."

"Might he be assigned to be watching you, sir?" Harry asked, pointedly looking at Snape.

Snape just arched an eyebrow and merely conceded, "It is possible."

Dumbledore then asked, "And what of these emotions—fear and loathing—what do you make of them, Severus? Who is it you think he feared and whom did he loathe?"

Snape drew a long finger across his lips and then answered; "We have to connect it back to Potter, again.  He most likely feared the Dark Lord, especially if it was his first face-to-face meeting; it would not be uncommon.  Perhaps he feared the Dark Lord's knowledge of Malfoy's feelings towards Potter."  Harry felt the heat rise to his cheeks again at this.  "Then again, perhaps, and this is quite likely, that the Dark Lord knows of the rivalry between the two here at school and had stoked the fire of hatred within Mister Malfoy and it was Potter whom he loathed while yet fearing the Dark Lord."

Harry grumbled, "Well, which is it?  He can't fancy me and then loathe me all at the same time."

Dumbledore raised a finger at this and said, "On the contrary, Harry.  It's entirely possible to be unable to resist a compelled attraction towards someone or something that one fully knows is neither proper nor acceptable.  This would explain Mister Malfoy's feelings of shame and his full knowledge of how unacceptable it is for him to feel this way, well, that is more than enough for one to loathe both oneself for feeling this way and also to loath the unavoidable object of their affection.  Of course, I should say, it would be unacceptable for him merely based upon the fact of how he has been raised and just who you are."  

Harry sighed deeply and dropped his head into his hands.  

"About this last one," Snape said shifting and holding out the parchment to point towards the description of Bellatrix Lestrange's cursing of Malfoy,  "I have knowledge of this event and can tell you," Harry's head snapped up at this and he saw Snape smirk at him and then go on. "Bellatrix was indeed intent upon training Draco upon the proper casting of the Cruciatus Curse and she most enjoyed building up his rage with the knowledge that Potter's first attempt at the curse was more successful that his repeated attempts even after hours of training.  She's a most exacting tutor."

Harry shifted uncomfortably now as the subject turned towards this awful memory of his.  He frowned and then said, "But how could… upon whom was he trying to cast it?"

Snape gave Harry a considering look and answered, "Bellatrix.  She claims to rather enjoy the feeling of the curse."  He turned then to Professor Dumbledore and said, "Are we quite finished here yet?  I have several papers to fail."

"Wait," Harry said.  "What's going to be done about Malfoy?"

"Done?" Snape said archly.

"I think, what Harry means, Severus, is what kind of conclusions can we draw from all of this," Dumbledore offered.

Harry said, "Well, not just that, but what are we going to _do_ about this?  He's obviously in contact with Death Eaters and I think it's quite obvious he's ripe to be in the thick of whatever's being plotted next if it concerns me.  Shouldn't he be monitored or something?"

Snape looked down his aquiline nose at Harry with great displeasure and said, "I shall handle the monitoring of my students, Potter, thank you very much."

"And what am I supposed to do about…about this _thing_?" Harry asked, referring to Malfoy's apparent obsession with him.

"Deal with it, Potter.  I'm sure he's not the first fan of yours to use you as fantasy fodder."  And with that, Snape rose to depart; leaving Harry with a very disgusted and disturbed look on his face. 

Dumbledore then merrily went over Harry's letter that he and Hermione had written to be sent off to Gringotts, communicating his counsel on the Goblins' dealings with Fudge on the issue of not granting him garnishment rights.  Hermione's help had yet again proved to be more than satisfactory and Dumbledore was very pleased with the letter and saw to its delivery.  

By the time Harry left the office, he was quite numb and returned back to his dormitory, unwilling to discuss the days' disturbing events with anyone but his journal.  

Of course, when he finally did give in to Hermione' pestering about what had happened in the meeting with Snape and Dumbledore, he regretted it immediately.  Apparently, she found the idea of Draco "Junior Death Eater" Malfoy pining away over The Boy Who Lived to be exceedingly amusing and laughed so hard she cried for over an hour.  

~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~

AN: So sorry again that it's only like a half chapter, but now you know what Dumbledore and Snape think about Malfoy and now Harry is quick disturbed by this.  (Heheehee)  Anyway….next up, the Order prepares to expand it's numbers and finally, the war begins.  


	30. Chapter 33 Upon the Precipice and Over

Chapter 33 Upon the Precipice and Over 

When Hermione finally managed to contain her amusement at the idea of Draco Malfoy pining away from afar over Harry, she settled down and assured Harry that it was surely only a phase.  Harry, desperate to believe this and to shove these disturbing facts from his mind, accepted this and anytime he had to remain in the same room as the pointy-faced ferret, would avoid looking in even the general direction of the Slytherin.  The keenly observant Hermione knew this and watched with amusement every time it happened, especially one morning in NEWT Potions.

"By now, you should all have drafted the recipes for your potions and completed the experimental protocol designs to test the efficacy of your developed draughts."  Snape was actually making the effort to loom around the classroom this morning and must have been feeling nostalgic for the good old days of Potions classes because he was alternating between sneering at Harry and glowering over Neville.  "Any requests for ingredients not kept in the Common Stocks need to be submitted to me for approval by today."  

Hermione looked down at her notes and then at Blaise Zabini as he checked off the list of their required ingredients.  Her group was planning on synthesizing a variation of a directed Obfusicating Concoction and its antidote.  "You forgot to list the Ginger Root and Lovage," she said reading over his shoulder.  Blaise nodded and dipped his quill in ink to add the two ingredients.

Hermione watched Snape, with his hands clasped behind his back, stroll about the classroom.  He paused at the table where Neville and Ernie Macmillan were conspiring over a parchment while Draco Malfoy leaned against the table and disinterestedly ignored them debating the merits of using shredded snakeskin versus crushed snake fangs.  

She saw Snape lazily inform the class, "There is an assortment of leftover ingredients from prior years in the back cabinet of the store room.  You may wish to check this supply before drawing up your final list for ordering requests."  

Hermione saw Neville and Ernie go at once to check the storeroom and she watched Malfoy as he sat down, alone.  She'd been watching Malfoy an awful lot of late.   She just couldn't figure him out.  She saw his eyes narrow as Malfoy's silver gaze locked onto something across the laboratory.  Hermione followed his line of sight and saw that it was Harry who was crossing the front of the room and heading towards the storeroom.  She quickly looked back at Malfoy to assess his gaze.  It was hard and cold.  His eyes were narrowed and his jaw was clenched.  She could see the quill he'd been twirling in his hand was now clenched so tightly the plumage was being crushed. 

_It doesn't fit, she thought.  _There are definitely **strong feelings there but not ****amicable feelings**_.  Hermione frowned in thought and arranged the set of brass scales in front of her then brought out the calibrating mass as she noticed Harry exit the storeroom, returning into the classroom.  Her gaze swept the room and fell upon Mandy Brocklehurst, whom, according to any girl with eyes, was positively in lust with Harry.  She saw Mandy staring open-mouthed at Harry's robe-draped body as he strode across the room.  Mandy distractedly smoothed her hair and swallowed as she fingered her collar, making sure the top button was undone to expose the maximum allowable amount of skin.  _That's more like it_, Hermione thought.  __That's how someone who **lusts** after a person acts.  It was only then that Hermione realized she had also been smoothing back her hair.  _Stupid coincidence_, Hermione thought as she snapped her mouth shut and crossed her legs, refocusing on the scales._

"Mandy Brocklehurst lusts after me?" Harry said, stunned.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Not the point, Harry.  Besides, half the witches here think you're a mysteriously brooding heroic Gryffindor and think you're dreamy.  The point is—"

"Dreamy?"

Hermione waved away Harry's astonishment that girls might see him as fetching.  "Harry, the _point_," she emphasized, "is that I don't think Snape and Professor Dumbledore are necessarily correct when they say he--Malfoy…_you know, about you."_

Harry cocked a wry grin as he said amusedly, "You know what?" His grin grew broader as Hermione flushed and twirled a strand of hair around her finger, mumbling.  "What was that?"  

Hermione looked around the Defense office where she and Harry were working on a Charms essay, desperate to avoid Harry's teasing.  Harry drew her chin towards him, making her face him as he slyly said, "I'm not sure I know what you're talking about.  You'll have to be more specific."

Hermione tried to glare in his green eyes that sparkled brightly with mischief but failed and held her held up high as she loftily said, "_Pleasuring_ himself."

Harry snorted.  "You know," he said, "That's the same term Snape used."

Hermione looked horrified for a moment and truly appreciated how awful the experience had to have been for Harry to have to discuss this topic with Snape and Dumbledore.  She shuddered and then banished it from her mind.  "Harry, I'm just trying to say, I think it merits more observation.   I mean, he's always watching you if you're around to be seen.  Not that you'd notice now though, you're positively terrified of making eye contact with him now." She smirked, as it was Harry's turn to shift uncomfortably now.  "But it's always a glare when he looks at you.  All of us, actually; he glares at me, Ron, Ginny—I think he's just obsessive and quite likely disturbed.  Who knows what type of dysfunctional upbringing he's had to endure."

"Dysfunctional upbringing?" Harry said incredulously.  "More like spoiled rotten, I bet.  If anyone's had a dysfunctional upbringing, it's me and you don't see me with some weird…issue."

Hermione raised her eyebrows and looked at Harry.

"What?" he said, clueless.

Hermione's look only grew more exasperated.

"What?  What do I do?  What?" 

"You don't have any issues?" she said with a pointed look.

Harry was completely nonplussed and searched Hermione for an answer.  "What?" he demanded.

"Harry," she said imperiously, "You _do_ happen to have _one tiny little…issue…" She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to catch on._

"Voldemort?  No, I meant like weird relationship, kinky, you know, stuff," he said waving off his being targeted for death since before he was born.  

Hermione rolled her eyes.  "Never mind.  As I was saying…it's not like I've ever seen him actually check you out."

Harry gave her a look that clearly said he severely hoped Malfoy wasn't checking him out.  "Can we change the subject now, please?" Harry said in a high voice.  "Dinner is in less than an hour and I'd like to be able to eat.  Have you spoken with Viktor lately about joining the Order?"

Among Harry, Hermione and Dumbledore, they had decided that since Hermione knew Viktor the best, she should be the one to answer any questions Viktor might have about his pledging to join the Order.  Viktor was still well connected to several friends and acquaintances among the international quidditch circuit and also had several friends remaining in and around Durmstrang.  These connections were seen as an excellent opportunity for the Order to expand its network and influence.  

"I sent him a note yesterday," Hermione said as she slid from her chair over to Harry's lap.  "I told him I wanted to meet to go over any questions he might have.  I suggested something private, though.  I don't want people to see him and myself talking and start rumors, just so you know.  Is that alright?" she asked tentatively.

Harry, who was leaning back into her hand that was lacing through the hair on the back of his neck, cracked opened his eyes as he asked,  "Are you, Miss Granger, asking me, for permission?"  

Hermione bit her lower lip and wiggled closer on his lap.  "Never," she said impishly, grinning.  "Just making sure you weren't going to go all…"

"Ron?" Harry suggested.

Hermione nodded.  "Yes, go all _Ron on me.  You go all Ron on me, Harry Potter, and—arggh!"  She made a face.  "I don't know what I'd do."  _

Harry smirked.  "I thought you were only with me for my body."

Hermione ran a hand through his tousled hair and smiled as she wistfully said, "And don't forget your boyish grin."

September faded quickly into the cool and brisk autumn days of October.  The Gryffindor Quidditch team began practicing twice a week and Harry found the time he spent with Ron going over the management of the team to be the best time for the two of them to get along.  It was something they both could do together and it usually involved Hermione being nowhere around.  

"Abby and Ginny are really good, aren't they Harry?" Katie Bell remarked as the Gryffindor Quidditch team sunk into their seats for dinner in the Great Hall after an evening practice. 

"They're quicker than Angelina and Alicia, that's for sure," Harry said.  He had half a mind that Katie was commenting as much for Ron's sake as to make conversation.  After Gryffindor's first few practices, the Chasers did indeed look promising, however, this was at the expense of their Keeper, Ron.  Ron was trudging along behind Harry and Katie and looking extremely lost.  Harry could see during practices that Ron was much better than he'd been at the beginning of last year but as the Chasers would start to get into a groove and really work well together, Ron would start to lose his confidence and subsequently start to lose his concentration and ability to stop even the slowest Quaffle from passing through the hoops.  "I think they'll give any Keeper here a run to keep them from scoring," Harry commented, trying to make Ron feel better as he ladled beef stew into a bowl.  

Harry turned then to see Ginny and Zoe Sorensen, one of the Beaters, rush into the Hall and over to the table.  "Guess what we just found out!" Ginny said excitedly, nudging Ron over as she seated herself and made room for Zoe.   

Zoe, with her pigtails still in braids, gushed out so fast they could barely understand her, "We were hanging back in the changing rooms, just talking, you know?  And then we heard two people--I knew I knew the one voice-- come into Hooch's office and get the ball case out, saying they needed it for practice."

Ginny picked up and said, "I knew Michael's voice.  Corner, that is."

Zoe nodded quickly and said, "Yeah, and I knew Chang's, too.  And guess who their new Keeper is this year?  That's right, you guessed it, Corner, that prat!"  Zoe and Ginny exchanged high-browed looks at this for a moment and then Zoe looked up dreamily as she said, "I can't wait to send a Bludger flying at that prat's big head."  

Ginny giggled at this and nudged Ron in the ribs as she said, "Won't it be nice to know we'll be humiliating some other Keeper during the games instead of you?"  

Harry shot her a look and she winked innocently and then turned back to her food.  Ron was looking like he did actually think this may be something to look forward to and started nodding his head as he speared a boiled potato off Ginny's plate, "Yeah, yeah it is.  And we know Harry can beat Cho to the Snitch any day, right?"  He started eating with gusto and then said, "You know, Harry, that Plimpton Pass they used is really tough to defend against, I bet that's one we should definitely keep as a play this year."

Harry nodded sagely and said, "Yeah, you know I think we should figure that if you have problems defending against a play then it's probably a good bet.  I mean you'll know our Chasers better than anyone after practicing with them so much, so if you have trouble stopping them, then just imagine how hard it'll be for some other Keeper to go against them who isn't used to how they play."  Harry hoped Ron bought this because he knew Ron keeping up his confidence throughout the year was critical to the team's success.  

Sure enough, Ron was nodding along slowly, chewing on a mouthful of something chewy as he mumbled, "Mmm…mmm, hmm."

Harry then felt someone ghost a hand over his back and slide around behind him as they squeezed in beside him at the table.  "Hey, how was your practice?" Hermione said giving him a warm smile and then quickly glancing across at the rest of the team.

Harry saw Ron tense up across the table and vigorously stab another potato with his fork while determinedly focusing on his food.  He returned Hermione's smile and said, "Everyone is looking really good."  

Ron ignored Hermione for the most part and only ever spoke to her for trivial matters such as to pass the trifle or to perhaps inquire to borrow a quill if he was in dire need.  Ron wouldn't approach Harry if he was with Hermione and so, Harry had to make a conscious effort to ask Ron to join him to do homework, to engage in a game of chess or to go over more quidditch strategies.  Harry had tried to bring up the possibility of Ron reconciling with Hermione so they might all be friends again, but each time, Ron would grimace and mumble about just not being ready yet.

Hermione was not the least bit put out by not having to deal with Ron.  Harry was sure that if Ron would just offer up an apology soon, she would accept it and things would eventually go back to normal.  However, everyday, she seemed to embrace their estrangement because of her own increasing apathy towards her former friend.   If it weren't for Harry's silent pleading to just get along and give it time, Hermione would have been quite content to ban Ron from getting within ten feet of her and bid him good riddance forever.  

They had both, however, joined Harry to visit Hagrid just before he left for Scandinavia.  They got a picture of the three of them together, waving vigorously, from Colin and put it in a homemade going-away card to give to Hagrid.  Hagrid was so moved that he had cried and nearly crushed them each with sobbing hugs.  While they all missed Hagrid, even Harry couldn't deny that it wasn't somewhat nice to not have to worry about what creatures they might have to endure in their weekly Care of Magical Creatures class.  Though, they did now have to spend much more time in the library for the class, doing research essays for Professor Grubbly-Plank.

Shortly after Harry's letter went out to Gringotts, Fudge reportedly backed off the Goblins amid pressure from The Wizards' Council and the Wizengamot.  Days later, it was then announced in the Daily Prophet that Albus Dumbledore, Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks, all credited with the capture of eleven Death Eaters, had generously donated their thousand galleon reward for each of the Azkaban escapees captured to the Ministry's Wartime Defense Fund.  It had been relayed at the Order meeting that week that they had been "notified" of their generous donations just hours before the news went out in the day's edition of the paper.  It was largely seen as Fudge's retaliation for Harry and Dumbledore's refusal to help him raise money.  Rumors at the Ministry stated Fudge was deeply resentful of Dumbledore because the Goblins had abandoned contact with the Ministry's Goblin Liaison Office.   Fudge suspected Dumbledore had replaced the Ministry's department as the Goblins' "counsel" which had been cited as their reasons for denying the Minister's entry and access to vaults.

The Order, meanwhile, was beginning to bring forth the names and descriptions of possible new members.  With this, came debates and decisions about what information would be given as public knowledge to all Order members and what information would from here forth, be kept a secret.  Professor Dumbledore had explained to everyone the ramifications involved if Sirius were to be officially declared dead.  It would mean any of Sirius' assets, including Grimmauld Place, would be subject to legal petitioning by Narcissa (formerly Black) Malfoy.  Dumbledore and Remus confirmed that Sirius had never completed a will and even if he had, it would likely have been contested on the questionable basis of his sanity.  Either way, they all knew Sirius had emptied the Black vault of its gold and moved it to Harry's well over a year ago and so, the effort to keep Sirius' death from being official was largely to avoid a skirmish over Grimmauld Place as well as to keep Kingsley free to spend time doing Order work while on the Ministry's time.  Oh yes, and there was also the very remote possibility, which Dumbledore only briefly mused over once to Harry, that Narcissa, in the event Sirius was legally declared dead, might petition for legal custody of Harry.  It was a long stretch but such a horrifying thought that Harry had resolved at all costs to never lament again for the truth to be known about Sirius.  He reckoned Sirius would well understand.  

The only exception to being kept in the dark on Sirius' whereabouts was Amelia Bones.  As Head of Magical Law Enforcement and Kingsley's direct supervisor, she already suspected Kingsley's time was being spent upon something other than locating the fugitive Sirius Black.  She'd postulated once on a hunch to Kingsley that perhaps Black was dead and Kingsley had neither confirmed nor denied it.  She then had started dropping him hints that as long as whatever work he was doing was for Dumbledore; it was just as well to her.   ** Apparently, she was a keen witch who missed very little.**

She had also met with Dumbledore a few times, and upon deciding their aims were in alignment, they both agreed she would pledge to join the Order of the Phoenix come the end of October.  Hermione had told Harry that she suspected Amelia Bones had the honor of her lost brother, Edgar Bones who had been killed during Voldemort's last reign, in mind, fueling her decision to pledge the Order.  

Amelia had came to Hogwarts to meet with Dumbledore one afternoon when Harry just happened to have training scheduled with the Headmaster so he too, met with her.  She told Harry that her niece, Susan had told her about all the things that Harry had taught his fellow students and that she thought his leadership was a real asset to the other students.  Dumbledore also took this opportunity to explain in detail Harry's status as basically being Lead-in-Waiting for the Order and that Harry would assume this position upon his being prepared to take over the role or upon an unforeseen incapacitation of Dumbledore making him unable to fulfill the duties of the role.  Amelia Bones seemed to have no reservations about this, although, it was clear she saw neither possibility as a likely occurrence in the very near future.

Snape was another member of the Order who was now to be kept a secret except to those who already knew about him.  It was deemed most prudent for his role as the spy to be kept apart from the others.  Amelia Bones was to be the only exception, again, in knowing the role Snape played.  

Snape, meanwhile, had taken his role as spy and branched out to lurking around the corridors of the castle at all hours of the day and night in order to spy upon unsuspecting students.  The twins had warned Harry with an owl that Snape had requested a vast array of their Subterfuge Specialties, as they called the items they had developed specifically for the Order's use in garnering intelligence.    Harry had no doubt that the nosy git was enjoying using the items.  Rumors had increased of late of Snape's recent success in ferreting out numerous young couples that had sought a quiet nook in the castle for some privacy.  Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott were still fuming over Hufflepuff's loss of forty points from what they claimed had been a misunderstood trip involving a changing staircase.  Harry and Hermione took great care to make sure their late night wanderings to and from the Common Room involved absolute silence, the invisibility cloak and Marauder's Map at all times.

Defense Against the Dark Arts classes had calmed down considerably since they were no longer doing any group dueling.  Even though they were not required to duel as groups anymore, they were still being graded on the average mark earned by each member of their groups for all assignments and tests.  They had spent two weeks discussing the analysis of the duels held in class and Snape took great joy in listing error after error made by nearly all the groups.  In class, he was now lecturing on the theories involved in practical situations where one would suddenly find themselves required to fend off attackers.  

Today, they were learning about the difference between defense to escape a threatening situation and defense to maintain your group and ward off attack.  Class was almost over and Harry checked his watch for the time.  He'd already learned most of this from Kingsley and Tonks over the summer and was taking as many notes on what Snape was saying as he was on recalling things that he'd already learned.  

He saw Snape glance at the clock on the wall that read 'Time to Give the Assignment' and then Snape intoned, "Your assignment for next week is to write two feet of parchment on the common Dark Detectors and Wardings used on homes.  Specify the ones used in your own family homes and discuss their age and origin. Discuss the weaknesses and strengths of protections used in your own homes and propose an ideal security set up for the average wizarding home."  

Harry hurried to scribble down the requirements for the assignment before the bell rang and he noticed that Hermione's quill was not writing.  He saw her staring slack-jawed, with a disgusted scowl on her face at Snape who was wearing a smirk as he gathered his stuff at the front of the class.  

Hermione's hand shot into the air as the bell rang and Snape looked up, ignored her and said, "Class dismissed."

"Professor!" Hermione nearly shouted, making Harry wince at her tone.  Snape was dutifully ignoring her as he waved his wand to roll up all the parchments collected for the day's assignment.  "Professor Snape!" she said standing up quickly.  She shot a glance at Harry that made it very clear she was quite upset about something and then stormed to the front of the room.  Most other students in the class had paused to watch and wondered what had Hermione in such an uproar now as she stopped just a few feet in front of Snape and angrily put her hands on her hips and shouted, "Just how is half the class supposed to discuss the magical protections on our homes?  What about muggleborn students!?"  

Snape looked her up and down and replied loftily, "Five points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for raising your voice to a professor."

Hermione harrumphed and shook her head as she refused to back down and said in a very stressed but level voice, "How, may I ask you _Professor_ Snape, do you expect muggleborn and raised students to discuss the magical protections around their _family homes_?"

Snape looked coolly down at her before answering, "No, you may not ask."

"That's ridiculous!" Hermione shouted.  Everyone, including Harry, was stunned that the normally perfect prefect Hermione Granger was losing her cool with the most notoriously dangerous professor with which to lose House points.  Harry could just see the rubies on the Gryffindor hourglass slipping down now.  

"Miss Granger," Snape said silkily, stepping around the desk and unfurling his arms like a great bat before crossing them over his chest as he appraised the seething Hermione.  "Are you daring to question my authority to issue assignments to the class?"  He didn't let her speak as he continued on in a rising monotone, "Do you dare to suggest that an impudent know it all such as yourself is better suited to design a curriculum for the students of this class than myself?  Do you believe that special considerations and allowances should be allotted to you because of your…_unfortunate background and upraising?"_

Harry's jaw was clenched with the insults just thrown at Hermione and he could see her shaking with fury at Snape.  He could also hear Malfoy cackling with glee.  With clenched teeth, Hermione ground out, "I'm suggesting, _Professor, you open your eyes and take into account the backgrounds of nearly _half_ of the students in this class, unless, you care to admit that you know perfectly well the backgrounds of your students and simply like to be __sadistic and assign work that almost half the class cannot complete, save ones with _proper_ bloodlines_!_"_

Not a student was moving to leave now.  No one, not even Harry, had ever publicly crossed the line this far with Snape and everyone was waiting to see his reaction.  And then he smiled.  No, not a nice smile; Snape wouldn't know a real smile if it bit him through his graying underpants.  This was a teeth-baring, hunter about to corner his prey smile that left Harry cold.  "I do believe, Granger, you've bought yourself detention.  A week's worth.  With _me_.  And since you are so worried about homework, you can also have an _extra_ assignment…a complete historical account and thesis on the importance of how blood and magic are connected and the relation of blood purity with magical powers.  Perhaps…twenty-six feet of parchment."  The grin was almost genuine now as Snape saw Hermione's face pale with indignation and horror at the monstrous punishment.  "I would hate for you to have to rush through this little extra credit project, Miss Granger, you have until Easter to complete it and your entire group shall fail the term if it is not--_in my opinion_--complete."

Snape looked thoroughly pleased with himself and smirked to say as much.  Hermione spun on her heal and stormed back to her table she had shared with Harry and yanked her bag off the seat and threw the strap over her shoulder.  Harry reached out to take her elbow as he guided her out the room.  But before they could exit the room, Snape called out with glee, "Ah yes, and fifty points from Gryffindor for not knowing when to keep your mouth shut."

Harry steered the silently fuming Hermione down the hall and down a set of stairs.  He knew full well that she was due for an all out rant after this little incident.  But he also knew there was one place that would ensure Hermione could not even start to yell and scream and it was also the place where she would be able to clam down and begin her work on both of her new assignments straight away—the library.  

He steered her in through the double doors and into the ancient library; back and around the side to an obscure table, just beyond the restricted section.  Hermione slumped down into a chair at the table and, now shaking, she let her head drop forward and rest upon her folded arms on the table.  Harry sat beside her, dropped his bag to the floor, and began to rub her back gently.

"I'd say he's a git, but that's rather old by now," he said softly after a few minutes.  Hermione merely made a muffled sounding sob at this.  "Don't worry about the points.  You've earned more than your share for Gryffindor over the years; you deserve to lose a few now and then.  Besides, hearing you call him sadistic was worth it to me."

Hermione wearily lifter her head to look at Harry and said, "I'm so stupid!"

Harry slid his arm around her and pulled her to his chest, stroking her hair now.  "You are so _not_ stupid, Hermione Granger."

"He's right about that," Lavender said softly as Harry turned and saw her and Parvati standing by the corner of a bookshelf.  

He gave them a small smile as they then approached the table and sat across the table.  He turned back to Hermione and pronounced, "See, it's official; you are not stupid."  

Hermione gave him a weak withering look and then shook her head.  She looked searchingly across at her dorm mates and then pushed back her hair from her face. 

"Don't even say it, Hermione," said Parvati.  "We all know Snape is the grease we scrape off a cruddy old, used cauldron."  

Hermione clenched her fists and made a strangled noise of rage.  

"Shh," Harry said.  "Can't be kicked out of the library, now can we?"  

"Right," Lavender said.  "Especially now that we all have such a huge assignment to work on together."  

"Huh?" Hermione said eloquently.

"Your assignment," Parvati said as if it was obvious.  "You don't think we're going to let you suffer it all on your own do you?"  

"I'll help, too," said Neville timidly, finding his way around the table.  He gave Harry a half-grin and said, "I knew you'd both go to the library."  

"You…you guys aren't mad at me?  For losing all those points?" Hermione said incredulously.  She looked to Lavender and Parvati, "For making your entire term's grade depend upon this stupid project?"

Parvati scoffed and straightened the bangles on her arm.  "Are you kidding?  I've never felt more confident about a grade before in my life."  Lavender nodded.

Hermione looked from one to the other and then at Neville and lastly at Harry.  She was blinking rapidly and Harry could tell she was trying not to cry at the generous support of her friends.  He smiled and pulled her to him again and said, "So, should we look for some books to get started?"  He felt Hermione nod weakly against his chest and smiled.  Calming Hermione Granger was as easy as a trip to the library.

Hermione soon fell into her taskmaster role and had sent the five of them off to search different sections of the library for books on home protection and warding spells.  It was obvious she felt they should get their immediate assignment done before worrying over the extra assignment.  They all agreed that the part of Snape's instructions about describing the protections of their own family homes was meant to just rile up Hermione and other muggleborns.  No wizard with half a brain would divulge the protections surrounding their family homes; it would be ludicrous.  Harry thought Snape must have surely known this and gave the assignment in such a way as to unsettle the muggleborn students. 

After working arduously for nearly two hours under Hermione's direction (although, Lavender and Pavarti seemed to be much more interested in arduously studying Harry), Neville's stomach rumbled and reminded them dinner was on in the Great Hall.

"Oh, and we have the DA this evening too, right?" Neville said as they each divided up the books to be checked out.  "What are we working on tonight?  I can't wait to learn to conjure those magical ropes you used in your duel, Harry.  Those were just like Dumbledore used on the—well, you know."  Neville shot a furtive look at the other two girls who did not know all about Neville's trip with Harry and friends to the Ministry last spring.  

"Oh, that's a simple spell actually," Harry said.  "The trick is the power you put into it has to be greater than the power of the one you try to bind.  It's kind of like a Stunning spell or the Full Body bind in that way."  

After the DA had reviewed all the stuff from last year and the new members were caught up, Harry had moved them on to learn many of the same things that he had learned over the summer.  The first thing he had taught them was how to prepare to be hit with a Stunning spell and then how to break through it as well as how to break through the Full Body Bind.  He actually started this as the new members were still learning how to cast these spells so the old members could be the targets and try to break the spells.  

The last half hour of each DA meeting was spent with everyone practicing the Patronus Charm.  Harry had gone over the basics of the charm for everyone and the new members who had never before seen his Patronus ooh'd and ahh'd over it with awe.   Hermione, of course, also had a corporeal Patronus but an otter wasn't nearly as breathtaking as life-sized stag.  Seamus hadn't managed to get his to take form yet, thought he still remained adamant it was something very hairy.  Katie Bell was also very near to having somewhat of a substantial shape to her silver mist that rose and hovered when she tried the spell.  

Harry had promised them that he would soon bring in something to help simulate a Dementor so they would be able to learn how to fight off the Dementor attack and then attempt to conjure the Patronus to chase it away.  By his guess, it would only be a few weeks before he was ready to bring in a Boggart.  

Professor Dumbledore had left Harry to work with the Boggart for several weeks now.  Harry was very adept at maintaining a wall about his mind without conscious effort.  He was also very quickly gaining skill in his ability to project forth images and thoughts.  He could now make the Boggart take several different shapes such as a table or Golden Snitch.  Once, he even managed to get it to take the shape of Hermione, standing under a spray of steamy water in a shower with her eyes closed and held tilted back.   (Of course, this was at a time when he was sure he was very much alone and even after he managed it, he quickly let the image drop and looked around guiltily.)  

Dumbledore said he still had a ways to go towards refining his ease of projection and with developing a constant projective state.  Dumbledore recommended that Harry not merely be content with having a metaphorical wall around his mind to prevent external penetration of the mind, but that Harry develop a mental cloak to mask this wall that would prevent someone from knowing that their probing would meet resistance.  After all, what good was it to be able to resist an attack or to be able to feed forth projected images in place of real images if the attacker knew their probe was detected or that it would fail?  Dumbledore had declined to instruct Harry on just how to specifically develop this cloak; instead, he merely hinted that Harry might be able to discern how this was done if he thought about the people he knew to be masters of Occlumency.  Thus far, Harry hadn't any inspirations on the subject.  

"What are we supposed to be meeting for?" Hermione asked for only the twelfth time since Harry told her that they were to meet with Dumbledore and some other Order members that evening.  It was the middle of the week and only a week and half before Halloween.  

"I told you, you'll find out when it's explained to the others," Harry said as he made sure they had everything before leaving the library.  

"I'm supposed to be in detention though—you're sure Professor Dumbledore said I should not go to the dungeons?"  

Harry grinned at her.  So far, she'd spent one night milking leeches, another scouring the first years' cauldrons and the previous night, scrubbing the floor of the potions classrooms.  "I would think you wouldn't be so eager to endure another of that git's detentions," he said with amusement.  "Dumbledore specifically told me to make sure you attended and that the meeting would count as time spent in detention.  Although, I can't say I'm positive that Snape knows about that or agreed to it."

"But you obviously know what this is all about.  Who's all going to be there?" asked Hermione, undeterred by his vagueness.  

Harry couldn't help but roll his eyes.  Hermione wasn't one to be put off.   (The bruise on his ankle from a fallen mop handle that attacked him after she kidnapped him into a broom closet between Transfiguration and Potions was evidence of that.  He smirked at the memory of Snape taking points from Gryffindor for Harry's inane grin throughout class.)

"Hermione, I told you, it's about the Order.  Just wait, Dumbledore will explain it all better than I can."  Harry stared back at a pair of gawking first year Hufflepuffs, one of whom was openly pointing at his forehead.  

"Okay then, tell me why Ron was giving you glowering looks today during Transfiguration?"

Harry frowned.  "Oh, that."  He had made a mistake of leaving a letter from the twins out on his bedside table the prior evening and Ron, upon recognizing the handwriting, had read it.  "He saw the letter from the twins this morning.  He read it while I was in the shower."  The letter had two things that had greatly seemed to anger Ron; first it was a monthly statement of the profit earnings for Weasley Wizard Wheezes and detailed the percentage that was forwarded to Harry's account and secondly, it had been signed 'see you in a few days'.    Ron seemed to have been doubly pained about the money; seeing how much the twins were making as well as seeing how much Harry was making just for being an investor.  But it was the closing that had seemed to give Ron the most ammunition to question Harry.  

"What, about their profits?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, but he saw how it was signed and kept asking me why they would be seeing me this weekend," Harry explained with a heavy sigh.

"You mean they're coming to Friday's meeting?"

"I imagine that's what they meant," Harry said.  "I told him I had no idea what it meant.  Tried to get him to think maybe it meant they were going to sneak back and set off some more Whizbangs.  But if you say he was glaring at me, then I guess he didn't buy it."

"Hmm," was all Hermione said as she bit her lip thoughtfully until they arrived at the antechamber off the Great Hall.

Snape was also arriving at the room just as Harry and Hermione.  He graced them with a disdainful sneer before sweeping ahead and leaving them in the wake of his billowing robes.  

"Git," Harry mumbled under his breath.  He knew the lack of an admonishing look from Hermione was proof that she too was still harboring ill will towards him for her week's worth of detentions.  (He secretly thought she was actually enjoying the 'extra' assignment.)

"Severus!" McGonagall said shrilly as she stormed over to the Slytherin Head of House.  "Would you care to enlighten me as to why Alastor discovered a pair of those Enhancing Eyes with a Transmission Charm on them in the Quidditch Team Rooms?"  McGonagall's nostrils flared as she spoke and Harry hadn't seen her this irate since the time Seamus had "accidentally" shrunk Lavender's skirt.  

Snape merely looked annoyed at her inquisition and shot Harry another sneer as he passed by before answering, "So many people here have been insistent upon my monitoring certain students at the school for so long.  Now that I've taken steps to do this, you are accusing me of…what, exactly?"

McGonagall puffed herself up and said, "Monitoring your Slytherins does not mean you have to monitor all the quidditch teams when they meet!"

Snape still seemed unconcerned.  "Several of the students you yourself have expressed concern over are on the Slytherin Quidditch Team.  I thought it best to monitor them in places conducive to meetings and discussions."

"So you conveniently decided to monitor the room where all teams go before practices to meet?" McGonagall said disbelieving.  Harry felt Hermione pull him along to the other side of the room where Moody and Remus were watching the two Heads of House with amusement.  Harry could just imagine Snape watching in on Gryffindor's team meeting where they showed the diagrams for plays and outlined their team strategies.  _Sure Snape would never imagine say…passing on this information to his own House team, now would he, Harry thought sarcastically._

"Surely you can't say _only Slytherins merit observance, can you?" Snape said silkily._

"An excellent point, Severus," Dumbledore said as he silently swept into the room, securing the door with a spell before turning to face the smirking Snape and thin-lipped McGonagall.  "I see, Minerva, that Alastor has already recounted his findings from the latest survey of the grounds and castle." He went on before she could protest Snape's actions.  "I do believe it is correct that students of all houses are at risk to be lured by the promises of the dark arts.  Therefore, I think all four Heads of House shall be informed about the monitoring devices that Severus has placed around the grounds and shall be made privy to the transmissions." 

Dumbledore smiled benignly at the two.  McGonagall pursed her lips and only smirked triumphantly after hearing Snape grumble something.  

"Now," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands, "We are all here, let's get to business."  He gestured to the large circular table now in the room and they each seated themselves.  Harry sat between Hermione and Remus, who gave Harry an inquiring look; thus far, only Harry and Dumbledore knew the point of the meeting.

Dumbledore smiled at each of them gathered around the table.  "We have called this meeting to participate in a discussion about the operation of the soon to be expanding Order of the Phoenix.  All of you present here tonight have been consulted about the various people who have been suggested for induction into the Order.  Next week we plan to hold these inductions and expand the membership of the Order.   I just wanted to bring the seven of us together, the inner circle of the Order, if you will, to make sure we are all in alignment with the expected changes in the Order's operations.   

"Now, as I think you are already aware, current Order members, upon wishing to sponsor someone for induction, have written up descriptions of the possible inductee, summarizing their family, friends and job.  This information been disseminated to Remus, Alastor, Hestia Jones, Mundungus Fletcher, Deadalus Diggle and Elphias Doge who have all been doing a different sort of background check on the person and their associates.  New members have been considered based upon the estimated strength of their commitment to opposing Voldemort, supporting Harry and the Order's aim, and the intelligence that they would be able to provide based upon their associations or employment.  I would like us, the seven who are aware of the prophecy and the complete purpose of the Order, to go over the final lists of possible inductees that we shall announce at this week's meeting."  Dumbledore then tapped his wand upon the table and a parchment list of proposed inductees appeared before each of them. 

At the beginning of October, Dumbledore had suggested to Harry that they modify the structure and operation of the Order to befit the induction of new members by creating a series of concentric hierarchical circles within the Order's members. The Inner Council of the Order of the Phoenix would consist of those that Harry had chosen to taken into his confidence: Dumbledore, Moody, McGonagall, Snape, Lupin, Hermione and, of course, Harry.  

The next level within the Order was termed the Outer Council and consisted of the remaining and current members of the Order. For the most part, new members of the Order were meant to increase the information network of the Order and, in emergencies, to increase the number of resources available.  It would be impractical to expect all members to attempt to meet somewhere once a week when nearly the entire Inner council resided at Hogwarts while the remaining members were spread about the country.  New members would be asked to give regular reports to a current member of the Order in order to provide intelligence; mostly likely, whoever sponsored the new member, would be their contact.  There were some exceptions of course, but it largely depended upon who it was.  Amelia Bones, for example, would be unlikely to be able to make regular meetings, however her intelligence would be provided by way of Kingsley as well as cauldron communication with Dumbledore.

"You've left a fair number off the list, I see," McGonagall mused, perusing the list.

"Aye," Moody grunted.  "That was my suggestion.  There's no need to induct so many of these people officially.  They can think they are part of the Order and provide contacts and resources but they'll pose less of a risk if we keep them distanced through just one or two contacts.  They won't know who all the other members are then, won't be able to betray the Order as a whole."  

Harry knew this was one risk of expanding the Order's member base.  The last time, the Order had lost several members because of one traitor.  _We will not have another Wormtail_, Harry thought resolutely.

"Yes," Dumbledore said, "There are also several for whom it would simply be too inconvenient to try to travel here simply for an induction.  The purpose of listing all these people whom we shall count as resources here, is to ensure we are aware of just who and what those resources are."  

They spent the next several hours going over the lists and asking and answering questions about this person and that.  McGonagall and Dumbledore kept getting sidetracked recalling this and that about their various former students on the list.  Charlie Weasley's list of various dragon keepers from around the world had Snape mumbling something about possibly being able to procure powdered Longhorn without the import tariffs.  

"Amos Diggory, here," Remus mused.  "He's in the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures.  He's been answering a lot of questions to the press regarding the Ministry's tenuous relationship with Gringotts.  Do we plan to summarize to the new members what's gone on thus far, such as with the agreement that the Goblins have with Harry?"

Dumbledore stroked his silver beard for a moment before Snape cut across the table, curtly saying, "The less anyone person knows the better."

"True, true," Dumbledore said, still musing.  

"Well, everyone else already knows; we can't deny that," McGonagall said.

It was getting late, Harry ran a hand through his hair and thought that sometimes asking for other people's opinions was more trouble than it was worth, mainly because if you asked for an opinion, then they usually wanted you to follow it.  

"What do you think, Harry," Dumbledore asking, twinkling over his half-moon glasses as he no doubt noticed Harry's increasing annoyance at the on going debates.

"What do I think?" he asked.  "Well, I say we deal with it as it needs to be dealt with.  We don't need to write up a summary of everything the Order has ever done and pass it around for light reading.  If someone wants to know about the Order's contacts with Gringotts or the Goblins they're likely to ask Bill.  He's the one known to work there.  I suppose they might ask you, Professor, but either way, if they ask, then they probably have good reason and we can relate the truth to those that need to know."  Harry finished noticing that if Dumbledore twinkled any more, he could put Fairy lights to shame.  

At the end of the night, they had finally gone over each and every proposed inductee and discussed what information needed to be given to the entire Order on induction night.  Only after Moody gave a most grotesque looking yawn, did they realize it was nearly midnight.  

"Good heavens," McGonagall said as she noticed the time.  "Are we finally done here, Albus?"

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore who seemed to be not the least bit tired.  "I believe we have accomplished everything we need to tonight.  Thank you all."

McGonagall, looking weary on her feet, motioned for Harry and Hermione to follow her.  "I'll escort you both to the Tower.  It's well past curfew."  

Harry bit his lip and gave Hermione a look as he heard Snape mumble something about 'what difference does it make for Potter?' and let McGonagall usher them out of the room, bidding Remus and Moody goodnight.

That Saturday, Dumbledore announced it to be a Hogsmeade weekend.  Most of the older students cheered at this but a good portion of the Gryffindor table groaned and looked at Harry sullenly; he had scheduled a double time slot for quidditch practice that afternoon. 

Dumbledore then continued his announcement, saying, "And to ensure everyone gets a chance to go, you may leave as early as right now, after the end of breakfast.  Be sure to return before the dinner hour.  Enjoy!"

Harry breathed a sigh of relief at the relieved looks of his team.  They were already complaining that the Curse of the Quidditch Captain had struck him, making him a tyrant that was ever so slyly scheduling longer and longer practices and who seemed to not want to let the practice end until they had perfected whatever play they were working on that day.  

"Hey," Hermione whispered, "I think I'm going to stay.  I want to get more time to research books for that extra credit project."  This is what they had begun to call Snape's punishment that he'd assigned Hermione.  "You should ask Ron to go; he's looking lost and forlorn.  I'll even get up and leave now so he won't have to wonder if I'm going along.  Later." 

Harry saw Hermione try to act unconcerned as she said this, but silently, he cheered that she was showing some sign of caring about how Ron felt.  Any progress was good progress.

"Hey Ron," Harry said, calling across the table.  "You want to go to town now?"  

The way Ron's face lit up was almost comical as he saw Hermione leave the table and heard Harry's invitation to leave.  In fact, he was nearly skipping as they walked along the road into Hogsmeade.  

"Hey, you reckon Fred and George somehow knew about it being a Hogsmeade weekend?" he said, kicking a stone along the gravel drive.  "Remember how last year the Order had people following us around like Mundungus dressed as that witch?  I bet the Order knew and Fred and George knew, eh?"

"Possible," Harry said noncommittally.  "Hey, remind me to stock up owl treats; I'm all out.

The week of Halloween was marked with gloomy weather and nearly constant drizzle.  Harry had actually canceled practice one evening because of the howling wind and steadily increasing rain.  Harry wasn't sure whether it was the dreary conditions or something else, but he'd been sleeping poorly all week.  Almost every morning he would awake feeling like the usually soothing voices in his head had been up all night arguing the same questions over and over again.  It had been making him restless and jumpy.  

"Harry, did you not sleep well again?" Hermione asked with concern on Friday morning as Harry rubbed an eye with the heel of his hand.  

As she began to dish out eggs onto her plate and then onto Harry's, he said, "Yeah, I mean no—I'm fine."  He saw Hermione frown and he began to eat breakfast before she could question him more on it.  He'd planned on mentioning the change in the tone of the voices to Dumbledore this week, but somehow, he forgot.  They had had plenty of reports to go over during the week, detailing a high volume of travelers into the country.  It was possibly indicative of something going on or it was also possible it was just the holiday; after all, Halloween was one of the biggest holidays in the Wizarding World.

"Are you nervous about tonight?" she asked, startling him out of his thoughts.  

"Huh?  Oh sure, well, not really.  Why?  Should I be?" Harry couldn't think why he needed to be nervous about tonight.  Tonight was the night of the Order's inductions, but he wasn't nervous about that.

Hermione gave up on trying to converse with the obviously sleep-deprived Harry.  That morning throughout Healing, Harry noticed Firenze looking at him strangely, like he wanted to say something, but Harry figured with all the rotten weather of late, the Centaur was just bored without being able to gaze up at the stars at night.  He probably had just wanted to ask whether Harry thought Mars would be bright. 

The rest of the day went by quickly. The meeting was to be held in Hogsmeade in the basement of the Hog's Head.  Aberforth Dumbledore had secured the area and set up an apparition point just outside the room for people to arrive without having to travel through the pub.  It was also handy that one of the tunnel passages from Hogwarts led directly into the basement of the Hog's Head; this was how Dumbledore had informed Harry that everyone leaving from the school would travel.   

Hermione left early down the passageway with McGonagall before the feast even started.  They were going to meet Moody and Remus to help set up the wards around the room.  Moody had also requested that Hermione teach him the Loyalty Jinxes that she would erect upon the entrance to the room.   Harry, still feeling as restless as ever and not very hungry, decided to skip the feast altogether.  He hid out in the Room of Requirement until it was time to leave.  He spent the time practicing conjuring spells that McGonagall had taught him over the summer.  

After he'd succeeded in getting a rapid succession of conjured arrows to shoot out of his wand and hit a target upon the wall, Harry nearly hexed the source of the voice that startled him.  

"You're conjuring and control is vastly improved from the summer," Dumbledore said, smiling.  

"Professor," Harry breathed out, clutching a hand to his chest.  "I didn't hear you come in."

Dumbledore merely twinkled.  "It's nearly time for us to leave, Harry.  It's only you and I.  Shall we?"  

Harry nodded and paused for a moment as he picked up his bag and decided to shrink it and pocket the reduced bag.  "Ready," he said and then followed Dumbledore to the passageway located behind Gregory the Smarmy.  

"Unctuous," Dumbledore whispered for the password as he tapped his wand upon the statue, causing it to hinge open for them.  

Harry pulled out his wand and lit it, expecting this passageway to be as dark and dusty as the one that led to Honeydukes.  To his surprise though, this passageway had well-worn stairs leading down, down, down and had torches lit along the walls.  A short trill of Phoenix song then preceded the sudden burst of light that was Fawkes' arrival.  The Phoenix trilled again in greeting and gently flew ahead, lighting the tunnel with a soft glow.

"I believe, Harry, this passage has seen much more use than even the one you're used to," Dumbledore said conversationally.  

"I see that," Harry said, noticing how clean this passage was.  The fact that he'd essentially just admitted he'd used another passage to sneak out of the castle, completely escaped his mind.

Dumbledore merely twinkled as they walked along the tunnel.  "I was wondering, Harry, how have you been feeling of late?"

"Why?" Harry asked, stumbling over a few loose rocks.  "Why do you ask?"  He tried to catch a look at Dumbledore's face in the torchlight.  They started to climb steps now; he could see a trapdoor up at the far top of the stairs.  

"Oh, just a feeling, Harry.  Have you had any dreams lately?" 

Harry noticed they had slowed in their pace and answered, "No, no dreams, sir.  But…well, there has been --"

The trapdoor opened then, sending down a stream of bright light from the room above, making Fawkes trill and speed up and out of the tunnel.  "There you are!" Hermione said letting Fawkes fly up.  "Moody said he could see you coming up.  Where's Viktor?"

"He'll be along shortly, he had to set up a student in one of the labs, he said," Dumbledore answered as he and Harry climbed the last few steps upwards.  As they climbed out of the trapdoor, just like the one in Honeydukes, Dumbledore gave Harry a look that said they would talk later.    

Harry was suddenly caught in a great smothering embrace.  "Oh, Harry dear, how are you?  You looked a bit peaked.  Are you feeling all right?"  Molly Weasley immediately started to look Harry over, scrutinizing him as she let go.  "I should send you some meat pies soon.   You look like you're not eating enough.  Has Ronald apologized to you yet?  If he knows what's good for him—"

"Mum, let him be," Bill said, giving Harry a sympathetic look.  "Hey there, Harry.  Oh look, Mum—Fred and George."  Harry watched Molly spy her twins and bustle off.  He then felt Bill nudge him and say, "Sorry, thought you might need some help.  She can get a bit…smothering.  Fleur is supposed to meet me here and I'm just hoping I can beat Mum to her.  Last time she and Mum got to talking, Fleur started in on some family recipe from her grandmother with oysters as an aphrodisiac; I thought Mum was about to faint."     

"Harry—there you are.  Good to see you," Amelia Bones said, adjusting her monocle and extending a professional hand to Harry.  

"You, too, Madame Bones," Harry said as he shook her hand.  

"Ah, Madame Bones—Bill Weasley," Bill said, introducing himself and proffering his hand.                

"Ah—one of Arthur's many, I presume.  Did you know Harry here, took on a half dozen of his classmates with my niece in a duel in his Defense class and they won? Two against six, it was."

"Oh?" Bill said, eying Harry.  "Did you know he went against a whole slew of us this summer—had to make his way across a maze while we tried to stop him and, well, he did it.  But see here," Bill pointed, "this guy was the first to get taken out by Harry.  Weren't you, Kingsley?"

Kingsley was leading a group of three other people and gave Bill a wry smile.  "Weren't you, William, turned into a garden gnome that night?"   Bill blushed a brilliant Weasley red then and Harry snickered.  Kingsley turned back to Harry and said, "I wanted to introduce you to some of my fellow colleagues, Harry."  

Harry just shaking Arnold Peasegood's hand, an Obliviator from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, when he heard Tonks call out, "Oh, Harrikins!  There you are!  I was just showing these two around and introducing them."  She led two women also wearing Ministry robes over.  "Push up that fringe, Har, and give a good gape at that scar."  She leaned over to one witch and in a mock stage whisper, said, "Too bad he's wearing his robes.  He's a right fine sight on an exit."

Harry was doing his best to give Tonks a dark look but was having a hard time keeping his mouth from quirking up.   

"Everyone!" Dumbledore's voice rose above the chatter.  "Why don't we all take a seat and get started.   We'll go around and introduce everyone."  

Tonks grabbed Harry as they moved towards the chairs and whispered, "I found this new hex and I knew I had to show you--nah, better yet, I'll show Hermione and _she_ can show you later!"  

"What is it?" Harry asked as he saw Viktor Krum arrive through the trapdoor.  

"Show you later," was all Tonks would say. 

The majority of the chairs were in a circle with a small gap in one section where Dumbledore now stood with Fawkes perched upon his shoulder.  Harry saw Hermione take a seat beside Professor McGonagall near where Dumbledore stood and headed over.  

Hermione was pulling out parchment and her charmed quill as he sat beside her.

"Need something to write on?" he asked pulling his wand.  She nodded and he conjured her a small square table, worthy of a nod of approval from McGonagall.

"Thanks," Hermione whispered as Dumbledore began to welcome everyone.  "Moody added some extra spells to my enchantment on the door.  No one apparated directly into the room, right?"  Harry nodded, as far as he knew they hadn't.

"I want to welcome everyone, especially those of you here to pledge membership to the Order of the Phoenix."  

Fawkes sang a high note and glided off Dumbledore's shoulder, landing upon Harry's.  "Showoff," Harry muttered.

Dumbledore continued: "The Order of the Phoenix is an Order dedicated and bound to oppose the threats of the Dark Arts.  It has lead the opposition against every dark lord for over a thousand years and has been recalled since the return of Lord Voldemort," gasps and a shriek made Dumbledore pause, "for well over a year now.  We were a very small number this past year and struggled against the denial of the Wizarding community as much as against Lord Voldemort and his followers.  It was a very big victory when we managed to rob Lord Voldemort of nearly a dozen of his most loyal servants as well as exposed the truth of our claims of his return.    Since then, we've been free to work more openly and in concert with the Ministry on many fronts.  Many of you being asked to join tonight are here as result of your willingness to work with the existing Order and we thank you for that.  

"But we stand tonight, upon the precipice of war, waiting merely for the real battles to begin.  Your presence here tonight is one battle fought and won; your decision of whether to stand up and oppose the reign of terror with which Lord Voldemort threatens our world is one battle; the presence of each of you, a victory for the Light.  All of us here tonight have professed ourselves to be opposed, at any cost, to the threat of Lord Voldemort.  Your convictions to this opposition, already one victory for the Light.  

"The Order of the Phoenix is led by one chosen by Sight and one who embodies the spirit and strengths of the Light.  For many years, I have been the one called the Lead Light.  But the sword has found a new home in a hand that can wield it.  It's not a secret among us here nor even among Lord Voldemort and his followers who leads us."  _Here comes the little bit about the prophecy,_ Harry thought as Fawkes preened his beak through Harry's disheveled mop. 

Dumbledore then told the story of a prophecy being made over sixteen years ago and how a portion of that prophecy foretelling 'one with the power to vanquish', which he recited, was brought to the attention of Voldemort.  He explained that Harry, upon his birth was a candidate for the one of the prophecy and upon the first fall of Voldemort, was confirmed as this person.  Harry felt the eyes of nearly every person in the room as they listened to Dumbledore.  Hermione discreetly grasped Harry's hand and held on, giving it a slight squeeze.  Harry wanted to be able to meet the eyes of every person there but couldn't.  (Especially after Tonks morphed her eyes into a bright green and made her hair look like a messy version of Harry's.)  

"So, this is the history and the mission of the Order of the Phoenix.  If anyone of you does not believe that becoming a member is the right choice for you, you may leave us now and we will not question you."  No one moved.  "Very well then, let us get on with some introductions."  

It began first with the current Order each saying their name and what they did for a living.  Then, any member who was sponsoring a new inductee was given an opportunity to make a case for their pledge.  Anyone present was allowed to object if they felt the need, but no one did.  It took nearly two hours to get through everyone present.  The only one Harry really thought might have encountered an objection was Viktor as several people warily listened to the young Seeker-turned-Professor with the thick Bulgarian accent.  

The most moving for Harry had been Mr. Weasley's pledge, Amos Diggory, who spoke, after Arthur's introduction of him, about losing his son Cedric.  Diggory had tears in his eyes as he described the night he lost his son and he insisted upon getting up and shaking Harry's hand for bringing back his son's body, pledging his support to help Harry fight the one who had stolen the like of his son.

After the last person was accepted without objection into the Order, Dumbledore rose again and spoke, "Well, we are unlikely to have occasion for all of us to be gathered together at once in the near future.  You have listened to one another describe their jobs and connections.  The network of people and information you will all create shall be one of the most powerful weapons to oppose the forces of Lord Voldemort.  I encourage you all to get to know each other a little better before you have to leave tonight.  On your way out, Remus and Minerva will make sure everyone has an enchanted cauldron for exchanging communications.  They will properly complete the Switching Spell on the cauldrons to personalize it for you to each receive Order Post."  

Harry's stomach was growling by now after missing dinner and he realized he was rubbing his forehead as Hermione gave him a questioning look.  "Is it your scar?" she asked in a low whisper.  

Harry shook his head.  It wasn't prickling like it had in the past nor was it aching with a sharp pain.  The members of the Order were now beginning to chat and mingle amongst themselves and Harry realized their chatter was being echoed by a rising group of voices within his head.  _This is ridiculous_, he thought to himself.  He thought he might be going mad as he even imagined he heard one of the voices in his head wail in confusion, but his own confusion at this was eased as Fawkes hovered in the air above Harry and trilled out a short burst of Phoenix Song.  At this, the voices in his head seemed to quiet and calm, much as the remaining members in the room did.  Harry was then able to clear his mind of the voices and focus on speaking with real people who were right in front of him, it was an even greater help when Hermione choose to stand next to him and allowed him to hold her hand.  

The six Inner Council members, minus Snape, were the last ones left in the basement room.  

"Harry," Remus said, shaking his head with wonder, "if I hear your stomach growl one more time…  Don't you know where the kitch-- er, I mean, how to eat dinner?"  McGonagall shot him an appraising look at his almost mention of the kitchens.

"Sorry, Remus," Harry said sheepishly.  "I wasn't hungry earlier and I didn't want to only go the feast for a half hour only to have to make an excuse to leave early."  Harry was now absolutely famished.

"Why don't we head back to the castle?  I believe you and I still need to talk," Dumbledore said peering intently at Harry.  "I will have some leftovers from the feast brought up to my office for you."

McGonagall, Dumbledore, Hermione and Harry, with Fawkes leading the way again, lowered themselves through the trapdoor and descended the stairs to the tunnel returning to Hogwarts.  Moody and Remus remained to seal to the door from unwanted intrusion, something Remus had assured Harry they did to each 'secret' passageway that led to Hogwarts.  Remus claimed it was a 'matter of rodent control'.  

"I'll escort you to your dormitory, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall said as they emerged from behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy.  

Hermione gave Harry a worried look and he said, "Go on, I'm fine."  She bit her lip and frowned before turning and following McGonagall towards Gryffindor Tower.  Harry knew she'd be waiting up for him when he returned.

When they arrived in Dumbledore's office, a tray of food was already waiting.  Harry paused only a moment before seeing Dumbledore's smile and nod before he dove in, starting with a large slice of pumpkin pie.  After a few fortifying bites, he spoke, "It's the voices, sir.  They've seemed…restless all week.  I think…it's… I don't know what it is."  

Harry took a few more bites of pie and filled a goblet with pumpkin juice as Dumbledore stood, stroking Fawkes' plumage.  "My sleep's been restless and I could hear them again earlier this evening.  That's not normal that I hear them without almost being about to fall asleep."  _Not that it's 'normal' to hear voices ever_, Harry thought as he drank deeply from the goblet.  "Sometimes…sometimes I feel like they are arguing…it just doesn't make sense, sir.  What does it mean?  Where are they coming from?"

Dumbledore walked around his circular office and seemed to be searching amongst his many silver instruments.  His hand rested upon one for a moment while he tapped a long finger upon it, seeming to contemplate.  "I am not sure, Harry.  I am not sure."

"It's not like a Legilimency attack," Harry mused.  "It just doesn't seem to be…external.  It's like…"  What was it like, he wondered.  "It's like…coming from _within.  Is that even possible, Professor?"_

Dumbledore sighed and paused a moment before saying, "Anything is possible, Harry.  That's the thing, you see, with magic."  After a few silent moments where Harry finished the slice of pie and sat back, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and seemed to be about to tap it upon a silver instrument upon a table when a knock at the heavy wooden door sounded.  

"Come in," Dumbledore called.  "Ah, Severus—"

"Headmaster, one of my—" Snape stopped speaking as he spotted Harry seated in a chair.  "Sir, I need to speak to you alone."

As much as Harry wanted to know what was so important at nearly midnight that Snape was knocking on Dumbledore's door, he was tired and had eaten enough to stop the rumbling of his stomach.  "I should be off to bed," he said, picking up a sandwich to go.  

"You'll let me know, Harry, if there is anything else you remember to tell me in the morning," Dumbledore said as a way of farewell.  

"Yes, sir," Harry said as he turned to leave the room.  He wasn't worried about being out alone past curfew since the only one he really had to avoid now was Filch.  As Harry walked back to Gryffindor Tower, finishing off his sandwich, he could well imagine the caretaker following a trail of breadcrumbs that led straight up to his dormitory.  

"_Intrepidus," he said to the Fat Lady who gave him a stern look at his late return to the Tower.  _

"Harry?" a groggy voice said from the couch before the fireplace.  

Harry saw Hermione must have dozed off while waiting for him and he wearily made his way over to her.  The voices were coming back, he could hear them already and they were making him just want to lie down and sleep.  

"Are you alright?" she asked as Harry first sat down on the couch beside her and then lay down beside her.

"Yes, I'll tell you in the morning.  It's nothing that can't wait."  

"But you're okay?" she asked in a small voice as she settled in with her back pressed tight against his chest.  

"I am now," he whispered as he kissed her head of bushy hair and distantly thought that holding Hermione was almost as wondrous as feeling the power of Phoenix Song.  

The next thing Harry knew, he felt something prodding his shoulder.  He reached to try to bring the covers up over him but felt nothing.  "Ron," he grumbled, thinking Ron had stolen his covers and was trying one of his patented annoying ways to wake up a friend.  "Go 'way."  He gradually became aware of a warmth in front of him and tightened his arm around it, realizing it was Hermione.

"A-hem," a voice cleared itself as he felt a sharp wand tap on his arm.  "Mister Potter," McGonagall's voice said in a voice so stern he could hear the frown.  

Hermione gasped awake and fell off the edge of the couch at the voice of her Head of House.  "Professor," she breathed out, wide-eyed.

Harry sat up quickly and rubbed an eye as he saw McGonagall indeed frowning deeply at them.  "Professor Dumbledore wants to see you as soon as you are awake.  You too, Miss Granger.  Seeing as you are both at least dressed already, you can follow me now."

"What—what happened?" Hermione asked, standing up shakily.

McGonagall sighed and the frown remained but was accompanied by sadness as she pulled out a rolled up newspaper from her robe and handed it over to Hermione.

Harry read the headline over her shoulder: _TWENTY-SIX KILLED: Over a Dozen Separate Death Eater Attacks Across the Country._  And then, at the bottom of the page, Hermione pointed to: _ST MUNGO'S HIT: Two Long-Term Care Patients Missing, Thought Dead._

~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *            ~

AN FYI:  I have a Yahoo group with chapter files for times when FanFiction.net is more finicky than a dark lord.  The Yahoo Group name is HP_AoF.  A link to this group can be found on my ff.net profile page.  


	31. Chapter 34 The Godmother

**Note**:  In the last chapter, I made a small error and referred to Zoe as being the third Chaser on the Quidditch Team.  Zoe (a fifth year and dorm mate of Ginny) is actually a Beater.  The third Chaser, in addition to Katie and Ginny, is Abigail Johnson, a third year and Angelina's younger sister.  I corrected this in the last chapter as well as a few other very minor errors and omissions but thought you should know this clarification before you proceed with the chapter.  Onward!

Chapter 34.  The Godmother

"Who…?  But why—"

Hermione's stunned question was cut off by McGonagall, who plucked the paper out of her hands and said, "Come, let's not discuss it here."  

They followed her out of the empty Common Room and Harry noted vaguely that the early dawn's sunlight was just starting to creep in through the tower windows.  

As their footsteps echoed upon the stone floors of the castle halls, racing thoughts finally began to slow down enough for Harry to actually focus on one at a time.  _Why are we being dragged out to meet with Dumbledore about this at this hour of the morning?  Who…someone must have been killed…someone we know…who?_  A swooping feeling sliced through Harry as he thought, _Oh please, let it not be Remus._  _Who…twenty-six dead—maybe it's just Voldemort's idea of fun.  A Halloween celebration of his own with his followers.  Followers!! He must have gotten more followers—maybe it was even the Dementors who were involved.  Harry desperately wanted to see that newspaper again and find out just what had happened.  He was glad to see that they had reached the stone gargoyle, which leapt out of the way at McGonagall's whispered password; he had questions now and needed answers._

"That's fifteen different families attacked," Moody's voice said as McGonagall pushed open the heavy oak door to the Headmaster's office.  "Ah, Granger—come over here.  Tell me how many of these names you know," Moody said, bypassing any greeting and beckoning Hermione over to an old table, spread with parchments.

"Just a moment, Alastor," Professor Dumbledore said, turning around from facing a portrait hung high upon the wall, near the ceiling.  "Have you seen the Prophet yet?" he asked Harry and Hermione.

McGonagall brusquely stepped over towards Moody at his table and answered Dumbledore's question without looking back, "I showed them the front page headlines to get them to follow me without asking questions.  Now what happened exactly?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily and then said, "The war has begun.  The Prophet had only preliminary numbers when they printed in the wee hours of the morning.  The number dead is at least thirty now."  He turned to Harry and said, "Harry, I need to speak with you.  You also, Minerva--you will need to fetch Neville Longbottom from his dormitory as well before he awakes and happens upon an edition of the paper; especially since the later editions are likely to mention more than just names."

"It's his parents who are missing?" Harry asked, hoping it wasn't true as he stepped closer towards Dumbledore's desk and looked up at the wizard for the answer.  Dumbledore's sorrowful and pained eyes looking over his half-moon glasses, however, told him, it was indeed true.  "Are they dead?" Harry asked steadily.

Dumbledore closed his eyes for a moment and then regretfully answered, "I am afraid we just do not know.  What we do know is that very early this morning a small group of Death Eaters did manage to break into St. Mungo's Hospital.  I had already received a message from both Kingsley and Amelia about the very first reports of attacks and I had sent Dilys Derwent to her portrait located in the entry of the hospital to report on anyone being brought in."  Here, Dumbledore gestured up at the portrait of the silver haired witch.  "Dilys saw this group arrive and was able to follow them a ways through the hospital corridors.  It appears that their primary mission was to break open the Janus Thickey Ward on the fourth floor.  She said she never saw the Longbottoms, nor two of the people who entered the ward, return.  I believe they were taken away by a portkey.  The remaining four Death Eaters then split up and she was only able to follow one pair that proceeded back to the first floor where they encountered two guards who were promptly killed.  She saw them then enter an office just before the entrance to the Dai Llewellyn Ward and leave again after only a few minutes.  Dilys followed them as they met back up with the other pair and they only nodded to each other before one pulled out a book that portkeyed them away."  Dumbledore sighed yet again and looked at Harry and said, "There are a few things that are bound to come out now, Harry.  I don't believe anyone would ever have told you but I shall now.   Follow me, Minerva you as well so you know how to best answer any of Mr. Longbottom's questions.  Alastor?  If you could—watch the fire for me.  I will return shortly."

Harry turned, unsure he wanted to hear about anything that sounded so serious at such a time and found himself looking into Hermione's face.  Her eyes shown with just as much fear and dread, as he was feeling.  Her eyes then darted over to the retreating forms of McGonagall and Dumbledore and then across the room where Moody still shuffled parchments about.  "Come on," Harry said softly, with a hand out telling her he wanted her to hear whatever Dumbledore had to say with him.  They followed McGonagall and Dumbledore up a small set of steps and curved around a tall bookcase and then ascended a second curving set of wide stairs that opened up to an elegant but well-worn sitting room.

"Please," Dumbledore gestured to a small sofa set facing two high backed wing chairs, "Be seated."  Harry and Hermione seated themselves with increasing unease as both Dumbledore and McGonagall were seated into one of the wing back chairs.  

Harry could feel his eyes, as if stuck open, wide and staring at Dumbledore who now seemed to move and bend slowly as if withering under the strain of time and pressure.  _What could have happened?  Who…**Who's died now?  **_

"Is Remus alright?  The Weasleys?"  The words tumbled out of Harry's mouth before he could think about them.  He needed to be reassured they were fine before this tight icy grip loosened from inside his chest.

Dumbledore's short nod allowed a tremendous relief to wash over Harry.  "I don't have much time before I will have to answer all sorts of calls and questions and you both," Dumbledore nodded at Harry and Hermione, "shall need to be seen by your peers at breakfast this morning when the post arrives.  I will try to be short and to the point about this.  

"When the attacks on the Longbottoms occurred fifteen years ago, there were, I believe, a few reasons for Lord Voldemort's remaining supporters to seek them out.  They surely wanted to beget revenge upon two Aurors who had worked to lock away several of their fellow followers and to gain information to help locate their fallen master, but also, they wanted to find the one responsible for the downfall of their master."

"Me?" Harry said, confused as to why anyone would go the Longbottoms to have found him.

"You, Harry," Dumbledore nodded.  Hermione squeezed Harry's hand.  "They sought information that night; information about the prophecy and its details if they were to be had, information about what exactly had happened to defeat Lord Voldemort and information as to where the one credited with his defeat was located.   They were prepared to use any means necessary to beget this information and even if they got nowhere, they would still have exacted their revenge.  Harry, I don't wish for you to be side-struck by this revelation, but they had reason to look for you to be residing with the Longbottoms; no one knew I had placed you with your Aunt's family and as Sirius, your godfather was believed to be guilty of murder and sentenced to life in Azkaban, they assumed you would be with your godmother.  Harry, Alice Longbottom is your godmother."

Dumbledore paused for a moment and Harry just blinked.  He had never really questioned who had been named his godmother; it seemed stupid now.  Surely, it should have occurred to him to wonder, especially after he found out that Sirius was his godfather.     

Dumbledore continued as he pulled out a copy of the early edition Prophet, "Harry, that information seems to have been planted to be sure to reach the news and come out.   My guess is that the information is meant to torment you."  

Dumbledore handed the paper across to Hermione while Harry sat numbly, thinking, _Neville lost his parents because of me…two people were tortured to insanity because of me_.      

"What?" Hermione said loudly in disbelief as she scanned the lower half of the front page and snapped Harry out of his thoughts.  She looked at Harry and shook her head, scowling as she said, "Look at this, Harry—just read it," as she shoved the newspaper towards him.

_ST MUNGO'S HIT: Two Long-Term Care Patients Missing, Thought Dead_

_Rita Skeeter Reports from the scene where, last night, Alarms were set off at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.  It was breached in a late night break-in that self-proclaimed spokeswizard Gilderoy Lockhart said, "Would certainly have been a tragic massacre if it hadn't been for my threatening to make those hooligans pay.  They rushed into my suite and I dashed out of bed, assuming of course, they were just overzealous fans seeking autographs, only to find that they were so scared that they just disappeared with a poof!"  _

_Mr. Lockhart, who gave this statement from the Welcomewitch center in the hospital's entrance while wearing what looked suspiciously like pyjamas, was then escorted away and employees of St. Mungo's refused to give further comment.  _

_It was overheard, however, by this reporter that there were two patients who were unaccounted for from ward 49, otherwise known as the locked-down ward for long-term residents of spell damage.  Further investigation revealed that the missing patients are none other than former Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom who were tortured under the Cruciatus Curse into insanity by followers of You-Know-Who after his fall fifteen years ago.  _

_It also seems that employees of the hospital found a cryptic note in Ward 49 that read, "Your godparents shall be together soon."  Employees seemed to have no clue as to the meaning of the note and whether it did indeed have direct bearing upon the two missing patients.  _

"The later edition this morning is sure to have the news of the two guards who were murdered and may even make the link between Alice having been your godmother, Harry," Dumbledore said as Harry looked up from the article.  "I just did not want you to be unduly shocked by this revelation.  I am sorry no one ever told you before but I assume it just never occurred to anyone who knew that you not only would not know, but that you should be told."  Dumbledore then stood and looked to McGonagall and said, "Alastor should have a list ready of students who have lost family last night and I will need you to distribute the names to the appropriate Head of House."

"Who?" Harry said in what sounded to him like a hollow voice.  "Who has all been killed?"

Dumbledore looked at him over his glasses and said quietly, "It's a growing list, Harry.  Alastor has been working on assembling the complete scope of all attacks from last night.  Come down and join us when you are ready."

Harry was left staring at a pair of empty wingback chairs.  He was vaguely aware that Hermione was now devouring every word on the front page of the paper.  

"Oh, Harry did you see--," he heard the newspaper rustle in her hands and drop to her lap.  "Harry?"  Her hand was on his knee, a question in her voice.

"Hmm," was his only answer, his gaze still stuck upon the vacant chairs.

"Harry," the tone was stern and he knew the words that would leave her mouth before she even said them. "You cannot be blaming yourself for what happened.  Look at me, Harry," she commanded as she steered his head to turn towards her with a hand under his chin.  

Harry felt himself settle back into his body from the state of suspended shock that he had been in.  His eyes focused upon Hermione's as he said, "I never even wondered whether I had a godmother.  No one ever told me."

Hermione's face filled with sorrow and she said, "Well, I suspect it's like Professor Dumbledore said; no one knew what you didn't know and if they did, they probably figured there was no reason to tell you.  I suppose someone might have mentioned it after we helped Sirius escape, but that was a hectic time and—"

"They didn't want to tell me about someone else who suffered because of me; because of the blasted prophecy," Harry said with a trace of bitterness and self-loathing.

"No.  Because they cared about you and couldn't see how it would do anything but make you feel this way and blame yourself.  Harry, listen to me—as much as this war centers on you, it centers on Voldemort.  He is the one who is to blame for those who have and will suffer."  Hermione had her hands framing Harry's face and was boring her brown gaze into Harry's, challenging him to question her reason.  "He will choose to do things and target people because he believes it will hurt you.  Now listen carefully: you—cannot—let—him—get—to—you.  It's a cheap stunt by Voldemort to do this and taunt you about it.  He's trying to get to you.  But you need to be strong and you need to focus on the war itself and not his petty stunts to get to you."

Harry knew she was right.  As he looked into her eyes, he marvelled at how she always knew what to say to him and how she was always the one to lead him in the right direction.  _The Order is running about, trying to do its job and I'm sitting here, brooding about losing something I never had.  "You're right," he said, laying his hand atop one of Hermione's.  "You're always right.  There's work to be done and I shouldn't be sitting here while they're out there.  Let's go."  He smiled at her as he grasped her hand and led her back out and down the staircase into Dumbledore's office. _

"Healer Smethwyck says he can't find anything that's out of place.  They found Pye this morning, still Stunned but otherwise, unharmed.  He doesn't remember a thing," said the deep voice of Kingsley from the fire.  Harry saw his dark head floating in the green flames of the floo. "Hello, Harry, Hermione," he greeted them as they entered the office.  "That's all I have for now, Albus.  Oh yes, I did as you asked and sent Remus to find Tonks.  The Ministry lacks tact when delivering bad news, I just hope he can find her before someone tells her.  Good day."  The Auror's head disappeared with a _pop_.  

"Granger," Moody called from across the room.  "Give me a hand with these.  Potter, you can empty out the latest batch of cauldron post.  We need to keep compiling the descriptions and names of those involved in the attacks last night.  The sooner we figure out the pattern and the purpose, the sooner we know what they were after and what their motives are now."

"What happened to Tonks?" Harry asked as he and Hermione moved over to the table to help Moody while Dumbledore returned to his desk to write something with a long-feathered quill.

Moody looked up and answered, "Her father was killed.  Her mother survived but seems to be in a state of shock and hasn't been able to tell much of what happened.  He was a muggleborn, you know, probably why they went after 'em." 

Harry looked down at the map of the British Isle and Ireland, thoughts of Tonks and her usually exuberant personality flashing across his mind.  There were little green dots placed about the map and tiny writing by each that read things like, _DUNSTAN: 3 dead-Wizard 41, Witch 43, Wizard 19.  _Harry scanned the map, looking for familiar names.  Kilpatrick…Tonks…Mitchell…Johnson.  "Is this Angelina's family?" he asked as he pointed towards the dot that listed _2 dead-Wizard 44, Witch 19_.

Hermione looked to where he was pointing and breathed out, "Yes, they are from Leeds."  Sure enough, the JOHNSON dot was located just south of the town mark for Leeds on the map.  "That must be her," Hermione said shakily as she pointed towards the writing that said _Witch 19._

Harry pushed himself to move on and not stare at it in shock.  _Angelina is dead, he thought as he scanned over other names that he felt grateful he didn't recognize.  McAlister…Smythe-White…Lancashire…Clearwater.  "Penelope?"  It read __CLEARWATER: 2 muggles dead- Male 48, Female 29.  "Can't be her, they're too old.  Maybe her family, though."_

"I'm not sure where they lived," Hermione said, scanning over the map the same way Harry was.  "Hopkins—there's a Wayne Hopkins in Hufflepuff," Hermione said pointing to where it said _1 dead- Wizard 34_.  

She gasped as she pointed towards a green dot over in Ireland.  "Seamus," she said softly running her finger across the words that read _FINNEGAN: 1 dead-Male 44.  _

"His dad was a muggle," Harry said quietly as he thought of his dorm mate of over five years.  

"Eh?" Moody said.  "You sure?"  

Harry nodded, saying, "His mum's a witch and his dad a muggle."  Harry watched Moody make a note on a long parchment and then add the word 'muggle' to the description of the dead 44-year-old-male who was Mister Finnegan.

"What about any of the others?  Any connections to muggles or muggleborns?  That's always been a political agenda for the Death Eaters when they've attacked in the past.  Anything you know like that can help us."

Hermione took a deep breath and said, "The Clearwaters, if they are Penelope Clearwater's family, are muggles.  She was a muggleborn witch from Ravenclaw that graduated with Percy Weasley.  They used to date."  She scanned the map.  "Taylor—there was an Ian Taylor on the Muggleborn Assimilation Committee from the Ministry; I recall receiving information from him after I confirmed my enrolment in Hogwarts.  I don't know about the Hopkins if they are related to the Wayne in our year.  I don't know him very well."

Harry took out the parchment rolls from the enchanted cauldron on the floor and read out loud, "East Rottenburg.  Corner.  48-year-old wizard dead and 42-year-old-witch with minor injuries."  He watched Moody move his wand over the map until he found the location and then tapped it twice to create a green dot.  "I wonder if that's Michael Corner's family?" Harry asked vaguely as he watched Moody transcribe the description of the attack onto the map.

"The Prophet says the Dark Mark was seen over the homes where the attacks occurred," Hermione said trying to maintain a business-like tone to her voice despite the gravity of the information they were absorbing. "Do they do that when they're done or when they arrive or what?  You said Tonks' mother survived and there was a survivor in the Corners' attack—how do they manage to leave survivors?"

"An excellent question, Hermione," Dumbledore said, joining them for a moment and perusing the map.  "The Mark is both symbolic of the Death Eaters' claim for responsibility and likely meant to inspire terror in those near it."

"It also creates busywork for the Ministry's Obliviators who need to modify the memory of any muggles who've seen it," Moody growled.  "It stays and lingers until someone ends the spell."

Dumbledore seemed contemplative as he ran a long finger down one parchment list.  "It is notable, though, that there does seem to be a fair number of survivors from the attacks.  It's not usually their way to leave anyone alive."

"Most seem to have been knocked out," Moody said.  "Probably a training exercise for his new minions."  Moody turned towards Dumbledore and asked, "Speaking of minions, any word on Snape's missing student?"

Harry looked up, wondering if (hoping) Malfoy was missing.  Dumbledore was looking over his glasses at Moody and answered, "No, Severus has not got back any information as of yet."  Dumbledore turned to Harry and Hermione and said, "Gregory Goyle has been missing from the castle since last night.  Professor Snape is looking into it but thus far, it does not appear that he was taken against his will.  However," he looked sternly at them, "I believe it is too early to postulate why or how he disappeared."

"We won't say anything," Hermione said and then nudged Harry. 

"Er, yeah," he said.

Dumbledore smiled at them and said, "Very well, it's nearly the start of breakfast now.  I ask you two to go to the Great Hall as you normally might.  Hermione, I believe you receive the Daily Prophet, I am sure the Delivery Edition will be somewhat more detailed than the one you've already seen.  It is important that you be aware, Harry, many may look to you to see how you will react to this news.  I believe the fact that it will not be a surprise to you will help others remain calm.  I believe the students are likely to continue to see you as a model for how to react to the events of this war.  Do either of you have any questions?"

"No, sir," Harry said, nodding dutifully.  "I understand."

Harry and Hermione entered a very vacant Great Hall.  On Saturdays, most students chose to sleep in.  As she took a rasher of bacon for her plate, Hermione said, "I feel so bad for Tonks, and Seamus…and Neville, too."  At Harry's stricken look, she hurriedly said, "Don't look like that.  I told you, it's not your fault and you can be sure other people will comment about their disappearance."  She tapped her fork on her eggs before saying tentatively; "You should talk to Neville sometime today."

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh.  "I was already thinking that.  I'm not sure what McGonagall will all tell him, but I'd rather he found out now, even from me why they were taken and not from some sensational article in the Prophet."  

They were quiet as they ate their breakfast and slowly watched more students trickle into the Great Hall.  "I wish I had my bag here so I had something to work on or read," Hermione mused as she poured herself a third cup of tea.

Harry nodded and then said, "Hold on," as he realized he still had his shrunken bag in his pocket from last night.  He pulled it out and quietly enlarged it on the bench beside him.  "What do you want to read—_Magic of the Mind: Occlumency and Legilimency_ or _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_?  Or, I have essays to correct from the third years on Ghouls, Ghosts and Poltergeists—you want to help me mark them?"  

An hour and half later, the Hall was about half full and they had only seen a few professors such as Professor Vector and Professor Sinistra at the head table.   

"Harry, there you are," Ron said, showing an uncharacteristic morning cheerfulness and willingness to approach Harry in Hermione's presence as he sat down across from them.  "I've been looking for you," he paused and eyed Hermione warily as he said, "Your bed didn't even look like it was slept in."

"Neither was Hermione's," Lavender said smugly as she and Pavarti joined the table and the two girls snickered knowingly.  

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Oh get off it, you two, we fell asleep talking in the Common Room last night."

Lavender and Pavarti looked skeptical but dropped the questions in favor of breakfast.  Ron swallowed a mouthful of something and said to Harry, "I overheard Bulstrode last night saying they needed to find another Beater before their game next Saturday.  Something about Goyle not being able to play—I assume he was too stupid and they chucked him off the team or something.  Isn't that great news?  Maybe, if we're lucky, he's been chucked out of school," Ron said with a wistful look.

Harry and Hermione each exchanged a look and Hermione asked, "Ron, where did you overhear this?"

Ron looked at her with a scowl, his face darkening instantly, and said, "What does it matter to you?  I don't ask where two got off to last night?"  

Harry saw Hermione's face grow hot with indignation and he put a calming hand on her thigh and said, "Ron, I think what she meant was where were you that overheard Bulstrode talking?  And who was she talking to?"

Ron looked hotly at Harry and dropped his fork with a clatter.  "What is this—an inclination?  I don't answer to _either of you!"  He pushed himself away from the table and left his half-eaten breakfast on the table as he stalked off and out of the Hall.  _

Hermione just slapped an exasperated hand to her forehead and muttered, "Inquisition, you idiot, the word is 'inquisition'."

"Mail's here," Harry said as he turned to face the sound of beating wings announcing the incoming owls.  

Harry watched Hermione take the Prophet from the delivery owl and pay the owl as Hedwig landed beside him.  His own snowy owl had nothing to deliver but often flew in to nab a few bites of Harry's breakfast.  He slid over a plate of kippers towards her and she nipped him affectionately on the finger before starting in on the plate.  

"Well?" he asked quietly as Hermione scanned the paper quickly.  

"They've got a slew of different stories on the front page about several of the different attacks," she whispered in answer, not looking up from the paper.  She flipped it open and paged through.  "Here—the story about St Mungo's is now on page three.  At least that's good news."

Harry read over her shoulder and saw that the news of the two killed guards found in a corridor on the first floor was now reported in the article.  There was also a claim that several Potions ingredients were now missing from the hospital's supply.  The Longbottoms were mentioned and confirmed to be missing and the note was again quoted, but there was no mention of just to whom Alice Longbottom had been named as godmother.

"Anything gossip-worthy in there today?" Pavarti asked innocently.

Hermione dropped the paper quickly and scowled at her and laid out the paper upon the table for them to read the front-page reports of the various attacks.  Lavender and Parvati quickly sobered and shoved over to read. 

"Merlin," was all Lavender could breathe out as she read.  Harry watched the two read the news and saw Lavender pale considerably as Pavarti clutched her friend's arm.

"Bedfordshire," Pavarti said with shock as she pointed to one of the articles.  "That's near my family.  The Mitchells—they're friends of my family.  Ruth Mitchell taught Padma and me Latin when we were young."

They each continued to read over the various reports of attacks, staring with shock at the two pictures that each showed the sickly green image of the Dark Mark looming over the homes of families who had been attacked.  "Some of these—the Dunstans, the Taylors—they're _pureblood_ family names!" Lavender said with horror.  She looked up at Hermione and Harry with her eyes wide.

"You're sure?" Hermione asked and Harry thought she looked like she was itching to take notes on what her dorm mates knew about some of the victims.  Lavender nodded as Ginny and two of her year mates slid in across the table.  Ginny only looked at Harry and Hermione for a moment before rising and coming around the table to look over their shoulders at the paper.

Harry looked across the Great Hall and saw other small clusters of students doing the same thing they were—huddling together and reading what was surely a copy of the Daily Prophet.  Harry saw some looking shocked, some looking scared and some whispering madly amongst themselves.  His gaze stopped roaming as it fell upon Draco Malfoy, sipping from a goblet as he disinterestedly perused what appeared to be the Daily Prophet.  As if he felt Harry's gaze, Malfoy looked up and locked eyes across the tables with Harry for a moment before he held up what was indeed the newspaper and grinned maliciously across at Hall.

"Your attention please," Dumbledore's strong, but calm voice called out, shushing the whispers and getting everyone's undivided attention.  "As many of you have surely just read, last night a series of attacks occurred across the country.  The attacks were led by the supporters of Lord Voldemort and included an array of victims.   I am most aggrieved to inform you that there are some among us here at Hogwarts who have lost loved ones and family members.  The Heads of Houses have been speaking to anyone who we know to have suffered these losses and will be available to answer any questions you may have.  At this time, please be most accommodating to those who are grieving and remember—we are only as strong as we are united, and as weak as we are divided."  Dumbledore's gaze lingered on Harry for a moment and then the old wizard nodded almost imperceptibly before he stepped back and walked out of the side door of the Great Hall.  

Whispers started up again and Harry felt a hand upon his shoulder.  "I think we should get the DA together today," Hermione said quietly.  "It would be good for everyone.  It really spurred on a lot of people to work harder last year after the breakouts from Azkaban."

Harry nodded and said, "Good idea.  I'm going to cancel Quidditch practice today since Abigail, well, you know—about Angelina."  He sighed heavily as he thought of Angelina Johnson and how he had known her since he was a first year on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team.  She had been the only Gryffindor to properly enter her name into the Goblet of Fire two years ago.  He remembered her dancing exuberantly with Fred at the Yule Ball.  He thought of Abigail Johnson, her younger sister, now on the team and finding out her sister and father were now dead.  

"Why don't we go back to the Common Room then," Hermione suggested.  They weren't the only ones who left the Gryffindor table to retreat back up to Gryffindor Tower; it seems most people just didn't find the thought of breakfast that appealing any more.  But as they exited the Great Hall, Harry saw Malfoy, looking lopsided with only Crabbe to one side of him, shovelling in food with gusto and wearing a very satisfied looking smirk.  

The Gryffindor Common Room was unusually full for midmorning on a Saturday.  As there had been in the Great Hall, there were clusters of people huddled around copies of the morning newspaper that were whispering and reading with wide eyes.  As they stepped through the portrait hole, several people stared at Harry as he and Hermione crossed the room to their usual table.   Harry casually scanned the Common Room for a sign of either Seamus or Neville, but saw neither.  "Do you think Professor McGonagall already told them and sent them back here?" Hermione asked, obviously thinking the same thing.

Harry shook his head and then spotted Natalie McDonald, a third year and one of Abigail Johnson's dorm mates.  He got up and approached her where she sat huddled with Dennis Creevey, and Andrew Kirke.  "Hey, Natalie," Harry said quietly to get her attention. "Have you seen Abigail lately?"

"Have you seen the news, Harry?" Dennis said holding out his copy of the Daily Prophet.  

"Of course he's seen you dolt," Andrew said, clipping Dennis across the head. "He was in the Great Hall when Dumbledore spoke.

Natalie looked like she was on the verge of tears and, trembling, said, "McGonagall came into our dorm early—before we went down the breakfast and got Abby up and had her leave with her.  I haven't seen her.  Unless, she came back when we were downstairs—why?"

Harry wasn't sure he'd like everyone spreading gossip around about him but, on the other hand, he figured it was easier if everyone knew what was going on so they didn't go and say something stupid to the wrong person. "Well," he said and cleared his throat.  "I believe her family was one of the ones that were targeted last night.  They live in Leeds, right?"  Natalie nodded mutely.  "I, well, I assume that's what McGonagall wanted to tell her about."  

Dennis Creevey looked speechless and Natalie slowly asked, "What should we do?"

Hermione spoke then, making Harry realize she had followed him over and had been listening.  "Why don't I go upstairs with you, Natalie?  She might be back in the dorm."  Natalie nodded and duly followed Hermione's suggestion and rose from her spot on the floor.  Hermione looked at Harry as she took Natalie's hand to leave and said, "You should check your dorm, too."

Harry turned to leave and saw Dean sitting with Ginny.  He headed over and quietly said to Dean, "Are Seamus and Neville around?"

Dean jerked a thumb towards the spiral staircase and said, "Saw 'em each head up one shortly after the other.  Then Ron stormed up not too long after.  That was about a half hour ago now.  Seamus and Neville both…they looked…" Dean searched for the words but Ginny cut in.

"Harry, Dean said they looked awful when they came back.  Do you think their families were one of the—"

Harry's nodding confirmed it before she voiced it.  "Seamus's dad and…well," he cleared his voice, "Neville's parents are missing.  Death Eaters broke into St. Mungo's."

Ginny stood up and in a matter of seconds went from looking shocked, sad, angry and then determined before she said, "I'll be back," before she headed out the portrait hole.

"Should we check on them?" Dean asked quietly, getting a nod from Harry.

The sixth year boys' dormitory was silent and Harry immediately noticed two bed hangings were closed and Neville was sitting, unmoving, on the side of his bed.  Harry and Dean each went to their own beds and sat quietly.  After a several minutes of silence and seeing Neville not move a single muscle, Harry and Dean exchanged a look and Harry took a deep breath before saying quietly towards Neville, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He expected Neville to shrug perhaps or even to ignore him.  But what Harry was not expecting at all was Ron to suddenly fling open his bed hangings and shout, "WHAT IS THERE TO TALK ABOUT, HARRY?  YOU WANT TO ASK ME MORE QUESTIONS ABOUT WHAT I DO?!  IT'S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU, HARRY!"

Harry sat back, stunned and stung by the words Ron shouted across from his bed.  Feebly, Harry said, "I…I wasn't…"

"_What_?" Ron spat, leaning forward now and pointing a finger towards Harry.  "You weren't going to ask?  It's always you and her!"

"Ron—" he tried to cut in.

"No—don't Ron me!  It used to be me and you, Harry—"

"Ron," he said, slightly louder this time.

"We used to be a team, Harry!  I knew all your secrets—"

"Ron!" Harry shouted and rolled off his bed, pointing his wand at Ron.  "Shut it!"  He saw Neville moving now and closing one side of his bed hangings.  "This isn't about you, Ron and I wasn't talking to you!  Do you even know what all happened over the night?  Do you know about the dozens of people who were killed last night?"  He was vaguely aware that Neville had stopped before closing his other hanging.  "Ron, this is not the time for whatever it is that crawled up your arse and died to come spraying out at me.  Two of our dorm mates have family who was targeted last night if you care to pull your head out of your arse and look around at the world."  Harry replaced his wand and walked over to sit on Dean's trunk at the end of his bed.  "Neville?  I was asking you if you wanted to talk or if you need anything."  Harry rose his voice slightly and looked at the ceiling as he said, "You as well, Seamus."  

Dean shifted on his bed and said, "Yeah, I know we're not girls or anything, but, you know…we're here to talk…if you need anything…we all stick together, right?"

They could hear stirring behind Seamus's hangings and soon the sandy-haired boy peered out towards Neville and said in a croaky voice, "What happened to you, Nev?"

Neville shifted on his bed and pulled his knees to his chest as he said, "They think my parents have been kidnapped from St. Mungo's."

"What?" Ron said bluntly, scooting to the end of his bed now.  "Why?"

Harry shot him a murderous look that Ron never noticed but then head Seamus say, "They killed my dad.  My mum's okay—don't know how, but she was knocked out and only came 'round when the Aurors showed up.  Lucky break, that."  Seamus moved to sit up proper now and shoved the hanging back further.  "Da was a muggle.  Never had a chance, you know…not against a bunch of wizards."

The door creaked open then and a red head of hair peaked in before pushing the door open completely.  "Hi," Ginny said as she came in, followed by Luna.

"What's she doing here?" Ron said sitting up and pointing at the Ravenclaw.

"Hello, Ronald," Luna said looking at Ron, unfazed by his territorial questioning.

"I brought someone, Neville," Ginny said, shooting a scathing look at Ron and letting Luna pass.

"Hello, Neville," Luna said serenely as she stood a few paces in front of Neville's bed.  "May I sit down?"

Harry felt like he was intruding as he watched them and turned to see Dean and Ginny sitting together on Dean's bed.  He didn't need to turn to see Ron; he knew he'd be glowering over at his sister.  Neville and Luna could be heard talking in low whispers and Seamus asked, "Do you know who all else was attacked, Harry?"

Harry rattled off several of the names he remembered and somehow, Seamus seemed to be comforted by the knowledge that he wasn't alone in his grief and in the knowledge that not only muggles who were married to a witch or wizard had been targeted.  

"You know, Seamus," Ginny said from her spot on Dean's bed.  "I know this must be a hard time for you and everyone who lost someone, but I also know I saw Malfoy smirking at the Slytherin table after the news came out this morning."  Ron made a strangled noise and looked like he was ready to storm the dungeons to flay the ferret but Ginny waved him down.  "I just mean that I think it's important that we don't let them see that they can hurt us."  She looked back to Seamus and saw Luna and Neville looking towards her.  "They expect us to cower and be afraid of what they can do or what they threaten to do, but the fact is, if we do that, then they win.  I know it's hard, but…"

"Never let them see your fear," Luna said quietly.  "It's what they want."  Harry felt his stomach clench uncomfortably at this.  He wondered how many times Luna had taken her own advice and if that was the reason she always seemed so unflappable even when people made fun of her to her face or took her things.  

After a few moments, Harry cleared his voice and said, "Er, I was wondering—and you guys can tell me if you think it's a bad idea—I was thinking I might call a DA meeting later today…"

"Yes," Seamus said sitting up.  "I feel like I need to do something."  He was nodding and a fire seemed to have lit in his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling briefly. "Yes."

Harry saw Luna look at Neville who nodded in solemn agreement.  

Later that afternoon, the Gryffindors had trooped down to the Great Hall for lunch in near solidarity.  As soon as he entered the Hall, Ernie Macmillan had waved and given Harry a thumbs up to indicate that he approved of Harry having activated the DA's Galleons to relay the intent to meet after lunch.   

Hermione had gone with Natalie earlier and found Abby in hysterics over the deaths of her sister and father.  She had told Hermione that her mother seemed to have been out of the house at the time the attack occurred and had escaped injury, according to an owl received that morning.  Abby would be leaving via portkey on Sunday morning to visit her mom and to help arrange for a funeral for her father who had been muggleborn.  Since they had her father's family who were all muggles, they would be holding a funeral for Angelina as well.  

"I should send a note to Fred and George," Harry said quietly to Hermione.  

"Do you think they would go to Angelina's funeral?" Hermione asked.

Ginny leaned around Hermione and said, "I already sent Mercury with a note to the twins.  Katie wrote a note of her own to them and asked me to send it along."

"Oh, good," Harry said, glad someone had already thought of it.  

He saw Ginny scowl then and ask in a low voice, "What was Dean on about Ron blowing his top and going spare earlier when you were all up in the dorm?  What happened?"

Harry rolled his eyes and waved it off but Hermione gave him a look that clearly said she wanted to know what happened. "It was nothing," Harry said.  "He was still on about this morning when he stormed out during breakfast."

"What?" was Hermione's reaction.  "At a time like this he goes off about…about something so trivial!?"

"He didn't know what had happened," Harry explained.  

Ginny raised her eyebrows and said, "Dean says it wasn't the first time he's heard Ron go on like that.  He says Ron gets into it, muttering about you and Hermione when you're not there.  Dean says the rest of the guys in the dorm have learned to either ignore him or apply the liberal use of silencing charms."

Hermione was about to give her two knuts worth on the subject but Harry cut her off before she could begin, "It's a stressful time for everyone.  I'm sure he'll get over it."  Harry dearly hoped he was right.

When it was time for the DA to meet, nearly everyone had showed up early and was eager to get started, despite it being the first clear and sunny day in over a week.  Several people were already exchanging spells and parrying back and forth.  The adrenaline level was such that Harry thought it might be an excellent time to teach them the Volleywall Charm that honed reflexes and enabled practicing alone.  But that idea was pushed aside when Neville, stone-faced, walked up to Harry and said, "I want to learn the binding ropes."  

Harry conceded and soon realized the Incarcerous spell was also an excellent use of the energy everyone had today.  He could see it in the eyes of the members of the DA that it was an empowering thing to learn how to subdue and gain control over someone.  It was likely, Harry thought, that they were all envisioning binding the nameless assailants who had been responsible for the previous night's attacks.  

Harry walked slowly behind a row of students learning the spell and watched their casting.  The conjuring part didn't seem to be the hard part, especially when so many people had such emotion behind the spell.  But the controlling of the conjured ropes seemed to leave something to be desired.  

"_Expello_!" Dennis Creevey cried to banish a wayward length of conjured rope, sending it flying across the room and clotheslining Tracey Davis.  

"Dennis," Harry said, stopping, "Banishing Charms send something _away_ from you.  Since the ropes are conjured, you'll find them extremely easy to Vanish.  Watch."  Harry summoned the length of rope towards him and then clearly said, "_Evanesco_!" as he flicked his wand and made the ropes vanish with a _poof_.

"Cool," Dennis said.  "Is that how you counter this spell?"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head.  "You _can_ try to counter any conjured items by Vanishing them but you'd have to manage to hit them in the air before they got to you.  Actually, you can break through these bindings just like you can a Full Body Bind or even a Stunner."  

Harry motioned Hermione over, the only one beside himself who could properly cast the spell, and told her to bind him so he could demonstrate the breaking of the bonds.  It was only a matter of seconds after being bound that Harry's arms burst upwards and the ropes flew off.  

"Are you going to demonstrate that on Hermione, too, or is that something you save for private time?" Dean asked with a smirk, causing several others to snicker.  

Harry tried to repress his own smirk and said, "No, I'll demonstrate on her."  He pointed his wand at Hermione who was still scowling at Dean and anyone else that had laughed and said, "_Incarcerous_!"

Hermione fell back with a thud to the ground as the ropes flew out of Harry's wand and wrapped her limbs tightly to her body.  "Damnit!" she said and then muttered, "Thanks for the warning," as she struggled within the bonds. 

As Hermione continued to struggle and fight the ropes, Harry said, "This is another spell where it matches the power of the castor's power against the willpower of the one being bound.  When this spell is cast by one who's properly mastered it, this spell and the like can be used to directly compare the power of two people.  It's probably a good thing to learn and to compare yourself.  It's not necessarily the same as who learns the fastest or gets better marks."  Harry walked over towards where Hermione lay on the floor, still bound and struggling and looked down at her and said, "Hermione is a good example; she learns most things quicker than me and gets higher marks but I have more power."  He was grinning down at her and saw her eyes screw shut tight as she finally broke through the ropes with a gasp.  He helped her up from the floor with a hand as she scowled at him.  "You're getting slow, girl," he said to her with a smirk.  

Harry continued his pacing behind the members and paused as he surveyed Tracey and Daphne.  The two Slytherin girls had showed up less than a minute after Harry first arrived in the Room of Requirement and their progress was a source of pride to Harry.  He watched as Daphne conjured ropes flying out of her wand and managed to have them wrap loosely around Tracey before falling to the ground.  

"Not bad, not bad at all," Harry said, nodding.   "This is advanced conjuring work; there's a large element of control to it. Maybe if you focus your emotions and mind more on total _incapacitation_ of your opponent.  Don't think of Tracey your friend, think of someone who's advancing on you and who you want to stop and not let get away."

Daphne conjured the ropes again and they flew from her wand faster this time, wrapping tightly around Tracey's upper body and causing her arms to pin to her side for a moment before they fell away to the floor.  

"Better," Harry said with a satisfied smile.  Harry watched Tracey have a go and, out of the side of his mouth, asked Daphne, "You two heard anything about your missing housemate?"

Daphne turned to stare at him with her mouth open.  She snapped it shut as Tracey's ropes landed on the floor at her feet.  "You know?  You noticed already?"

Harry shrugged.  "A missing Goyle is a hard thing to not notice.  Besides, I have other ways to get information.  Plus, they were overheard talking about him being gone from the quidditch team last night.  What do you know about it?"

Several others in the room were now moving on to practicing their Patronus Charm as the meeting was going on two hours.  Tracey walked towards them now so they could face the same direction to practice the charm.  

"He already knows about it," Daphne said to Tracey with a jerk of her head towards Harry.  Tracey's eyes widened and she looked at Harry and then back at Daphne.  "I didn't tell him!" Daphne protested at the look.

"I found out on my own," Harry said.  "Are you two going to tell me what you know or not?"

After a few moments, Tracey quietly said, "We've been told not to talk about and draw attention to it."

Harry chewed on this and asked, "Did he leave on his own?"  The girls exchanged another uncomfortable look and Harry said, "Here, I'll tell you what my guess is to what happened and you can just confirm or deny.  My guess--I know Goyle's father is a Death Eater who's currently still out there.  Goyle--he's not that…er, _bright_ and probably wouldn't be going anywhere in life where he'd need a NEWT anyway, so my guess is junior was ordered by his father or someone to drop out of school and join his father in service to Voldemort."

"_Shh_!" Daphne said, jumping.  "_Don't say the name!_" she hissed and then looked warily at Harry.  "More or less, you got it in one," she grumbled, still shuddering from hearing the name.  

Harry eyed them for a moment longer and asked, "Who said not to talk about it?"

The girls looked at each other again and then refused to meet his eye, looking down at the ground and around the room.  He had just given up on an answer and started to walk away when Tracey whispered, "Parkinson told us."  Harry nodded once and continued on his way.

The fervour and intensity of everyone in the DA was not lending itself to anyone making any progress on producing a Patronus.  Both Neville and Seamus, who for obvious reasons were charged this day, were shouting, "_Expecto Patronum_!" but to little effect.  

Harry watched them closely.  They had each made excellent progress with the conjured ropes and could bind someone for at least a few seconds before the ropes were either broken or disappeared.  Now, Neville's forehead could be seen glistening with beads of sweat from the effort he was putting forth but he seemed to be getting even less of a silver vapor than usual despite his increased determination.   After Seamus nearly growled in frustration after yet another unsuccessful cast, Harry cut in between them and said, "Hold on, hold on.  What are you thinking about when you're trying to cast?"  He could imagine what was on their minds today and didn't wait for their answers.  "Sheer determination will not get you anywhere with conjuring a Patronus.  You need _happy_ memories, and believe me, it's half the battle to actually think happy thoughts when you've got a real Dementor in front of you."  He ran a hand through his hair and walked over to the side of the room so everyone could see.  "Listen up, most of us seem to be having even more difficulty today with the Patronus Charm than usual.  It is critical that you remember that this spell is not just, er, magic, but _emotion_.  It requires you to focus your mind on happy thoughts and to funnel that emotion into the spell.  It's hard to do this today, I understand, but it will be ever more difficult when there's a Dementor advancing towards you."

Harry paced back and forth and was thinking for a few moments before he spoke, saying, "Most of you can probably remember what the Dementors make you feel when they are near, right?  It's always the same for me.  I know when I feel the cold and feel the rushing of air in my ears…and," he swallowed, "and when I hear the same thing I've always heard…I know that it means a Dementor.  They try to drown you in…in despair; your worst memories that you fear.  They make you feel like you're lost and there's no way out or that it's pointless to resist.  Utter despair."  Harry could see several people nodding numbly with his description; others looked pale at the thought.  "But what you need to do is think just the opposite.  First, stop those thoughts that drag you into despair from taking over your mind, then gather your wits about you, and then…then you need to find something that gives you happiness and…hope!  Hope--," 

Harry's mind was whirling.  _If Boggarts preyed upon your fears and you drove them away with laughter…certainly fear and humour were opposites.  Then maybe, since Dementors preyed upon your despair, what you really needed to fight them was hope--not just happy thoughts but hope!  It makes sense…all hopeful thoughts would be happy but not necessarily all happy thoughts would be hopeful_.  

Harry stopped, ran a hand through his hair again and thought, _what gives me hope?  _Thoughts of Hermione flitted through his mind followed by thoughts of someday being free to have a future without Voldemort.  He closed his eyes and let the hope well inside his chest and murmured, "_Expecto Patronum_," as his brilliant, gleaming stag leapt from his wand and then cantered around to a prancing halt before returning to Harry to bow its antlered head before it dissipated.   He looked up at everyone watching him and said, "Yes, try hope, not just happy thoughts, but ones that give you _hope_.  It's the opposite of despair."  _It makes sense_, he thought.  _A Patronus should be not the embodiment of happiness, but hope; after all, what but hope can truly protect anyone from despair?_  

Shortly thereafter, Padma Patil got her Patronus to take form; it was an eagle that flew out of her wand and soared around the room.  Others also seemed to be gaining in their endeavour to produce a corporeal Patronus.  Harry came upon Hermione who was nodding as she watched her own otter Patronus romp around in a circle.  "You're right, Harry.  It's more potent when you think purely of hope."  She looked up at him and beamed.  "Most thoughts that are happy are in some way connected to hope, but, oh, I never thought of thinking of the spell as being the opposite of what you need to counter!"

Since it was afternoon and not evening, they didn't have to end before curfew and so, only after three hours did people finally start to head out to go down to dinner.    Harry had spent the last twenty minutes sitting and talking with Katie Bell who was in tears nearly every other minute as she thought of Angelina.  She'd cried on Harry's shoulder, clutching him as he came by and reminded her yet again of their former teammate.  

"I…I'm sorry, Harry," she said as she sniffed and wiped her eyes.  "I know you think I'm just a silly girl for sobbing, but, oh, we were going to live together with Alicia in Diagon Alley when I got done with school.  I begged them not to get an apartment without me.  If…if," fresh tears were welling up again in her red-rimmed eyes and she said, "I should have let them…she wouldn't have been at home then!"  She choked on a sob and clutched Harry's arm again.  

Harry winced as her nails dug into his arm and he saw Ron, with Jack Sloper, walk by to leave the room.  "Hey," Ron said looking at the sobbing Katie with something akin to fear and pity.  (Then again, maybe it was Harry having to try to console that he pitied.)  

"Ron," Harry said quietly. "Do you think you guys can help Katie back to the Tower?"  Harry tried slowly to stand up and help Katie up.  Ron looked dubious but obviously didn't want to say no.  "Here you go, Katie.  Ron will help you back to the Common Room.  I can bring some food up later if you feel too tired to go down to dinner?"  

Katie nodded glumly and clung to Ron, her head resting on his shoulder as Ron shot Harry a mortified look.  Harry nodded and said, "Okay, see you later."

There was only a handful of people left in the Room of Requirement now and Harry saw Neville, breathing deeply with his eyes closed and then trying to cast a Patronus.  A silver mist floated from his wand and hovered before tendrils started to drift off and it was no more.  

"That was really good, Neville," Harry said quietly.  

Neville's eyes snapped open and he looked at Harry and then nodded.  

Harry didn't know if Neville knew his mother had been Harry's godmother or if Neville knew that one of the reasons his parents might have been taken was to get at Harry.  He just didn't know what to say to Neville.  Harry couldn't help but wonder how life would be if Neville was the one with the scar.  What if Neville's parents had been killed by Voldemort and Neville was the Boy Who Lived?  What if Harry's parents had been the ones to be tortured and living a life in St. Mungo's?  He could have seen them then.  He'd know what they looked like and not only from pictures.  

"You alright, Harry?" Neville asked.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and realized he'd been staring at Neville. "Er, yeah, sorry."  He looked at Neville and saw the same round face he remembered his mother had when he'd seen her last year while visiting Mr. Weasley.  "I'm so sorry, Neville," Harry said, barely above a whisper.  

"For what?" asked Neville, nonplussed.  Harry looked at him, unknowing what to say.  He knew he had to say something.  If he were Neville, he'd hate this Harry Potter who caused his defenceless parents to be kidnapped as pawns in some megalomaniac's game.   Neville's face hardened and he said, "Oh, you mean pity.  You pity me."  It was an accusation.  

"No, no--I don't. I mean, that's not it," Harry protested, knowing how the thought of anyone pitying him made him feel.

"Well then what where you just thinking as you looked at me?" Neville demanded.

"I…I was thinking...if I were you, I think I'd hate me," Harry said weakly.  

Neville looked astounded.  "Why?" he asked as if he could never imagine a reason to hate Harry in a million years.

Harry couldn't find a good way to ask or say what had to be said and he just blurted out, "Did you know your mum is my godmother?"

Neville looked shocked for a moment but then blinked, confused and said, "Yeah, and your mum was mine."

"Wha--really?"

"You didn't know?" Neville asked, almost sounding amused.  Harry shook his head.  Neville smiled sadly and said, "Gran has always said our mums were friends.  They were both pregnant together at the same time and that we were born on nearly the same day--"

"July 31st," Harry said.

Neville grinned, "July 30th for me.  Gran says they were in some secret group, kind of like the DA, that fought You-, er, Voldemort."  He had whispered the name and shivered as he had said it, looking around to make sure no one else heard, but he said it all the same.  

Harry grinned, "The Order.  The Order of the Phoenix."

"Yeah," Neville said, nodding.  "Gran said both our parents were in the group, Dumbledore, too."

Harry had a fleeting thought, that if both of their parents were still alive, he and Neville might have been raised together and might have been best friends from when they were little.  He cleared his throat and looked down at the stone floor, scuffing his shoe across it.  "They, er, found a note, you know.  It the hospital ward.  It was in the paper.  Did you, er, see it?"

"I saw the paper," Neville said slowly.  "They said they didn't know what the note meant or if it was even related."

"No, well, they wouldn't," Harry said darkly.  "The paper wouldn't, but I can guess.  Remember Sirius last year?  He was my godfather…and they…_she_ killed him.  Bellatrix killed him."

Harry waited for some reaction from Neville and just when he thought Neville might faint, instead, he said, "They're just trying to get to you, Harry.  My parents…there's nothing there.  They can't make someone suffer who isn't aware they are supposed to be suffering."  Neville shook his head and pocketed his wand.  He took a few steps towards Harry and said quietly, "They can't get any worse than they are now.  They'd be better off dead--everyone says so," and with that, he walked away.  

Harry watched Neville leave the Room of Requirement, closely followed by Blaise Zabini and a pair of Ravenclaws.  As he cleared away the remaining stuff from the room, Harry couldn't help but think that no matter how oblivious Frank and Alice Longbottom were to their capture and treatment, it still didn't negate the fact that those who cared for them would be hurt with the knowledge of their suffering.  The thing about people who cared for one another was, it meant when one suffered, they all suffered.   

~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~

Next up, the motives behind the first attacks.  More attacks become common.  DADA class gets their results from their Wardings/Protection assignment.  Does Slytherin Find a Beater in time for the game?  And maybe Harry finally settles down enough to remember what he was supposed to tell Dumbledore and Hermione about.  Cheers!


	32. Chapter 35 Setting a Fire

Chapter 35. Setting a Fire 

Harry wanted to slip off to return to Dumbledore's office and get updated on the latest news of the attacks but it just wasn't meant to be. The Gryffindors seemed to be drawing together in response to the day's news of the attacks and Saturday evening had nearly everyone gathered and talking quietly in the Common Room. Some were trying to get work done and some had obviously retreated back up to their dormitories. It seemed Gryffindor Tower was as crowded as it had ever been yet was still usually quiet. 

When Harry had returned from the kitchens to request an assortment of food to bring back to Gryffindor Tower, he found Katie, still teary-eyed and emotional, but clutching a very uncomfortable looking Ron. 

Harry almost felt a twinge of amusement at his friend's predicament but one look at Katie erased any humor from the scene. Ron had less experience with girls, especially hysterically sobbing girls, than almost anyone Harry knew. He set down one small basket of food by them and it sounded like Katie had said a muffled thank-you and then resumed her tearful recollections about the memorable times she, Alicia, Angelina and the twins had had throughout their years at school. Harry just gave Ron a nod and a tight smile that he hoped conveyed to his friend that he was doing the right thing by just listening and being there. 

Walking around a group of his third year Defense students who were talking several first and second years through the Disarming Charm, he came up behind Hermione's armchair. She had a small table pulled up before her and was writing furiously with a quill as she hunched over the table. 

"Hey," he said, leaning over the back of her chair and giving her shoulders a squeeze. "I'm thoroughly knackered. I gave Katie a basket of food from the kitchens." He jerked his head over towards the nook where Ron was cautiously offering Katie a roasted leg of chicken. "I've got more here for anyone else. Can I just leave this with you? I think I'm going to head up to bed."

Hermione looked up at him and could see the exhaustion in his face. "Of course," she said as she took the other large basket of food from Harry. "Have you had a chance to speak with Professor Dumbledore again?" 

Harry shook his head. "No, there just wasn't a chance today. I'll see him tomorrow. I have my time scheduled with him in the afternoon."

Hermione nodded her understanding. It had been difficult for them to even have a word alone much less for Harry to slip away. "Well, good night," she said as he leaned over a placed a quick kiss on the top of her head. 

Up in the sixth year boys' dormitory, Harry changed quietly, noticing that both Seamus' and Neville's hangings were drawn. Harry dug through his trunk and pulled out his photo album before he climbed into his four-poster and settled under the duvet. 

Propping his pillows behind him, he cracked open the album. He hadn't looked at it in quite some time. He'd been too busy worrying about the present and preparing for the future to dwell upon the past. As he turned the pages, the faces of his parents smiled at him. He was searching through the faces of their friends though. There was Sirius, flashing a handsome grin at whoever was snapping the photo. Then Harry saw what he was looking for: the plump and happy looking face that so resembled Neville's. It was a picture of Alice Longbottom holding a baby with a tuft of black hair as Harry's mum looked down lovingly at the child. The opposite page in the album had a picture of Sirius holding the baby Harry, whirling him around high above his head as Harry's father looked on, laughing. Harry could almost hear his father's laughter now echoing in his mind. 

Harry found two more pictures with his godmother; one even had Frank Longbottom in it while he held a small infant that Harry suspected had to be Neville. Yawning, Harry kept on looking at the photos until their faces began to blur. When he finally did fall asleep, it was with the echoing sound of his father's chuckling amongst other voices, which Harry dreamed belonged to the people in the photos. 

"Remus?" Harry said, surprised as he entered Dumbledore's circular office, only to find the tired and worn face of his father's old friend standing over the worktable upon which an assortment of parchments were still spread. 

"Hello, Harry," Remus replied with a smile that seemed to drain a tremendous amount of energy.

"How's Tonks? I heard you were sent to find her yesterday to give her news of her father."

Remus sighed sadly. "Yes, yes I was. She's…well, one minute she's shocked and near tears and then the next she's raging for revenge."

"But her mum's alright, right?"

"Yes," Remus said. "We took her mum over to old headquarters this morning after they were given the go-ahead to leave St. Mungo's. The Healers couldn't find anything wrong with her besides traumatic shock. Have you seen the latest numbers?" Remus asked as he shuffled through and held up a parchment.

Harry took the parchment and read the tallies: _…28 separate targets attacked…39 killed during attacks…17 total survivors from attacks…_

"We've determined that nearly all of the families attacked somehow involved a pureblood who married a muggle or muggleborn," Remus said. "It sounds like a typical Death Eater political statement and a warning. It has all the hallmarks of their pureblood platform and they attacked several well-known names-- that sends the message that no one has a chance against them." Remus sighed heavily and his fist clenched upon the table. "The survivors are a little puzzling; seventeen of them--all women. None of the women can remember anything from the point when they were knocked out. They all pretty much say they thought they were as good as dead. It's a mystery, though, I wonder if it might mean whoever was carrying out the attacks was inexperienced and they just had a problem with killing women."

"But some women did die?" Harry asked, thinking of Angelina Johnson. 

"Oh, yes, I'm afraid so," Remus said. He uncovered the map that was still on the table and gestured at it as he said, "We can tell there must have been at least a half-dozen groups of Death Eaters about that night."

"How?"

"By comparing the times of attacks and the generalized locations of the hits. There seems to have been a first wave, seven in fact that began simultaneously. From there on, they stagger from when they start but that just reflects that each group and attack took a different amount of time." Remus looked up at Harry and asked, "How are the students handling things?" In a lower, softer voice, he asked, "How are you handling things?"

Running a hand through his hair, Harry said, "Fine, fine. Everyone is…well; I think it's sinking in with everyone what's happening. Everyone's talking and anyone who has parents or family that have talked about the last war can be heard repeating everything they grew up hearing." 

"And how are you?" Remus repeated, not falling for Harry's effort to dodge the question about himself.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and quietly said, "Fine. I'm fine." His eyes opened to see Remus adopting a skeptical look and Harry added, "I…I'm still processing it all. I mean I never really even thought about whether or not I had a godmother so…you know. Where's Dumbledore?" It was past the time to start his scheduled training with the old wizard and thus far, the only person in the headmaster's office Harry had seen was Remus. 

"He's at Number twelve. He's been all about this morning—the Ministry, the Wizards Council, St. Mungo's. He was running late when he arrived at the house and asked me to Floo here to see you and to apologize to you for his not being able to make it back here in time."

"Is he returning soon?" Harry asked. Things just didn't seem like they would be quite under control until he saw Dumbledore twinkle and pop a lemon drop into his mouth.

Remus shook his head and shrugged. "Don't know. He's with Tonks and her mother. He's working with Andromeda to see if she remembers anything helpful. She hasn't been talking much and Moody thinks there's a chance she may have been Memory Charmed. Then again Moody thinks there's a chance just about anything and everything has happened to nearly everyone," Remus said with a roll of his eyes. "Albus suggested I work with you for a while if you wanted. What do you feel like doing?"

"Duelling, but there's no room for it in here." 

Harry looked about the room and heard a few of the portraits exclaim and grumble things like, "I should think not!" and "Certainly inappropriate!" 

Remus gave a wry smile and said, "We should probably stick here to the office in case Albus returns."

"Well, then we're pretty limited to Occlumency or Legilimency or just talking," Harry said. "I take it you don't want to volunteer to let me break into your mind and practice interpreting images, do you?" 

Remus looked extremely unsettled by that notion so Harry waved it aside and said, "I don't blame you; it's awful. Have you heard any news about whether Voldemort's been recruiting and if so, how many and from where? I know Goyle left Friday night to start his Death Eater career."

"Really?" Remus looked surprised. "Severus said just a few minutes before you got here that he had yet to get any word from his students about why Gregory Goyle disappeared. He was in here to drop off a note for Albus; said he was going to leave the castle for a while to try to find out more information. Are you just guessing?"

"Nuh-uh," Harry said shaking his head and feeling a bit smug about knowing this before Snape found it out. "I've got some sources you know." At Remus' raised-brow look, Harry went on. "There are two, actually three, Slytherins in the DA: Blaise Zabini, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass. Tracey and Daphne confirmed it for me. The odd thing is, they've been told to specifically keep quiet, to not speak on it at all. I had to guess what I thought happened and they confirmed it for me. It all makes sense really. Now that I think about it, it's a wonder Goyle ever even came back for this year at all. He probably had to get allowances to pick up the few NEWT courses he did try to take."

"Well," Remus said, frowning in thought and taking a seat at the worktable, unearthing the front page of the Sunday Prophet. "That might explain why Severus said he wasn't able to get anything out of his students. You're sure you trust these two?"

Harry thought for a moment before saying, "Yeah, yeah I do." At least he liked to believe he could. 

As Harry took a seat of his own, Remus perked up and asked, "Has anyone in your class wondered about any strange assignment's Severus had to give? I think it's over by now."

"What? What do you mean?" Harry asked, confused.

"Wardings on their families' homes?" Remus prompted. Harry's eyes lit with recognition and he nodded. Remus asked, "You had to hand it in by now, yes?"

Harry nodded, "Yes, last week. Why?" Harry's face darkened and he gave Remus a stern look as he said with a deeper voice, "Why?"

"It was an instruction from Voldemort he said. But Dumbledore agreed that they wouldn't tell you or Hermione before the assignment was done to ensure your reactions were authentic."

"But—why? And yes that certainly worked well--Hermione got a week worth of detentions for going spare as the assignment was given. By the time she began to do some of the reading for the assignment, she was going on and on about how pointless it really was. She found all sorts of mad rituals, there was one where the foundation of every home was built upon a stone bathed in the blood of a sacrificed child!" Harry shuddered at the thought. "Over half the class that we talked to said the weren't taking it very seriously. In the end, Hermione just wrote that her main protection on her home was that it didn't exist anymore."

"And what did you write?" Remus asked.

Harry shrugged. "I wrote that not even I knew everything that protected me at my home, which is true. I also cited my aunt and uncle's abrasive personalities as being defences that would drive away anyone wishing to intrude. You say Voldemort instructed Snape to give that assignment?" Harry shook his head. "I don't know many people who took it very seriously. Only a few people I know of wrote home to ask about their homes and I know Lavender Brown got a tetchy reply from her mother that it was not something she needed to know nor was it something that was to spread about. Even Hermione didn't care about what mark she would get on it. What happened to the papers we wrote?" 

"Dumbledore collected them from Snape. He had to let him give the assignment but then took them and needless to say, I don't think you'll be getting them back. I think Severus is to report back that some students or parents complained and that Dumbledore seized them immediately after the class."

Harry thought back to the class the previous week when the homework had been handed in. He did recall, now that he thought about, seeing Dumbledore in the hallway just outside the classroom as they exited the class. "But why? Would the information really help him to plan attacks? They didn't seem to have too much trouble with, what was it? Attacking twenty-eight different homes on Friday night and they didn't need a list of the wards on each of those homes, did they?"

Remus looked nonplussed. "Not as far as I know. No—they never needed to know these things in the past. It's odd really. Voldemort had to know Severus could easily tell Dumbledore about the assignment and bypass having the completed work in his hands and make sure the information was kept from being passed back to Voldemort. It seems too…obvious or at least ill planned." 

Harry and Remus mused over various plots and plans that Voldemort might be currently trying to put into motion as they each perused the details of the various attacks strewn across the worktable. By the time, Harry was due to leave and go to dinner, Dumbledore had still not returned. At Remus' suggestion, just before he left, Harry wrote Dumbledore a note about what he knew on Goyle's disappearance. He even sent a copy of the note to Snape via cauldron post. 

Sunday evening, both Seamus and Abby Johnson went to McGonagall's office to take portkeys home for the funerals of their murdered family members. On Monday morning, the rumour mill was busy saying that since any student who had lost a family member, had now left to attend some version of a muggle funeral, that therefore only those with direct links to muggles or muggleborns had been targeted. It seemed the overall motive and message of the attacks was easier for everyone to discern than Harry had anticipated. Harry noted that as this topic was often being discussed and many purebloods could be heard often and offhandedly mentioning their pureblood status. 

As the weekend seemed to have offered little in the way of relaxation, Harry was truly dragging on Monday morning. But by the time he rolled in Potions class, he was finally waking up. Although this may have had more to do with the fact that Snape took off five points from Harry before he had even sat down simply for yawning in a laboratory. Snape kept watching Harry throughout the class, looking for the tiniest thing for which to dock points. Harry strongly suspected it had to do with Snape reasserting his power after Harry got the information on Goyle before he did. 

Speaking of Goyle, while Harry was grinding milkweed seeds, he decided to have a little fun. Millicent Bulstrode, his fellow group member was currently recording the appearance of the simmering liquid in a cauldron, which Padma Patil was stirring. Harry waited until she was done writing and then casually asked her, "So, Millicent, is your team all prepared to take on Hufflepuff this Saturday? Beside yourself, you have only two other new players, right? Montague and Bletchley are gone…and so is that one that looked like a troll—what was his name? The Chaser with that distinct odor?"

Millicent Bulstrode was now grinding her teeth loud enough for Padma to look over with concern. 

Harry ploughed on, pretending to be oblivious. "I'd say I hope you've trained those Beaters but god knows it's a miracle how anyone even taught them to dress themselves. I don't reckon you'd have any more hope with getting them to grasp the concept of strategy."

"What the hell are you blathering on about, Potter?" Bulstrode ground out as her teeth made a sound worse than the milkweed seeds under Harry's pestle. "Do you even have a point to your rambling?"

Harry feigned to be insulted and with a hand to his chest, said, "Why, Millicent! I was merely trying to make pleasant conversation from one Quidditch Captain to another. Confidentially, of course," he said in a stage whisper, "Slytherin is the only true competition Gryffindor can count on." Harry winked at Padma who turned with a look of surprise at this. "Surely your House treasures the rivalry as much as ours."

Bulstrode looked like Harry had grown an extra head and was saved from coming up with a retort when Snape, without even pausing as he strode by, said, "Another five points from Gryffindor, Potter, for opening your mouth and creating sound."

Harry wasn't even fazed by this and merely smirked at Tracey who was giving him a fearful look that clearly said she'd keep her head down if she were Harry. But Harry had no intention of doing this. "So, Tracey, what career are you hoping to get into after you leave school?" he asked, gamely trying to make conversation with someone. 

Tracey's eyes widened and she blinked before resuming her ministrations on desilking Screechsnap pods and mumbling something incoherent. Millicent, who was standing directly beside her turned to look at her housemate with an incredulous look. 

"What was that? I couldn't hear you," Harry said, still keeping a pleasant smile upon his face as he lit a small fire beneath a round-bottom flask to begin distillation of some dragon's blood. 

"Auror," she mumbled, her cheeks taking on a pink tinge. 

"What?!" Bulstrode said, croaking like a toad.

Tracey shot her a dark look and loftily said, "It's what I always wanted to do since I first heard about them." She snuck a sideways glance at Harry and said, "It wasn't much of a realistic goal until this year."

Harry grinned. "That's my course of study, too. Course, if Fudge is still running things in the Ministry then, I may have to rethink that." He turned to Millicent who was still eyeing Tracey like she didn't quite know what to make of her and said, "What about you, Millie?"

"Don't call me Millie!" she snapped, glaring at Harry. 

"Five points from Gryffindor, Potter for annoying Miss Bulstrode," Snape intoned from across the classroom, not even bothering to look up. 

Harry smiled at Millicent. "My apologies, Millicent. You were saying?"

She shot him an exasperated look and said, "I don't see why I should tell you."

Before Harry could answer, he heard Malfoy's gleefully mocking voice say, "Made it back from the storeroom, Longbottom? Thought you might have wandered off and lost your way. We'd hate for you to go _missing_ and never be heard from again."

Harry glowered from across the room and saw Neville's face go red and his fists clench before dutifully ignoring Malfoy and his comments. Harry saw Millicent watching the incident as well and he said, "What about that pompous prince? Everyone knows he'll be a little Death Eater just like his father. The idiot has declared his open allegiance to that side since he learned how to speak. Is he planning on just being an infidel of leisure?" Both Tracey and Millicent looked sharply at Harry as he said this, but Harry went on as he tapped the parchment funnel holding the powdered milkweed and added it to the reduced dragon's blood. "I mean if his father was still around, sure little Malfoy junior would have to get a respectable job at the Ministry where he could effectively spread his evil from within but now? His father rots in some cell somewhere and who in their right mind would want to hire _that_ spawn? Can you even _imagine_ Malfoy working for a living? I can't. Makes you wonder why he's even still at Hogwarts." 

Just as Harry graced the visage of Draco Malfoy with a glare, he witnessed Ernie Macmillan "accidentally" tipping a flask of Bubotuber Pus onto the table so the yellowish green liquid spilled out and spread across towards Malfoy, dripping from the benchtop and onto his lap. 

"You _imbecile_, Macmillan!" Malfoy screeched in a whiney voice, filled with panic. "Sir!" he called up towards Professor Snape, dabbing with his robe at his lap. "Sir!! My…_oh!!_" Malfoy was now bent over double and sounded like he was about to cry as he stumbled off his stool and bolted for the exit. 

Harry and a good half of the class repressed smirks at this as Snape stalked back to the workstation where Neville was directing the vile, petrol-smelling goo back into a flask. "Undiluted Bubotuber Pus—Longbottom!" Snape cried, taking a breath to gear up for a full-fledged rant.

"Oh no sir," Ernie cut in, doing a very good show of looking apologetic. "Malfoy bumped the table into me while I was holding the flask and it spilled. I've told him before to be more careful when one of us is handling dangerous substances." Ernie clucked his tongue while shaking his head and said, "Such a pity."

The steaming look on Snape's face as he desperately tried to think of a way to make this Neville's fault before giving up and storming away, nearly made Harry laugh out loud. As Harry stoppered his flask, he allowed himself a small smile as he thought of how Malfoy should really have learned by now to keep his mouth shut. As the bell rang and he gave the flask over to Millicent for cataloguing, he commented, "It's amazing no one's taken the ferret aside and given him a talking to. He'll taint the lot of you merely by association with his big mouth," and swept out of the room. 

He wasn't sure what exactly he had been trying to gain by saying the things he said. No, he did know: he wanted the other Slytherins to put Malfoy in his place. Really, Malfoy was the least cunning of the bunch, what with never once concealing his allegiance to Voldemort and openly threatening to see Harry killed. Malfoy was too full of himself for his own good. The other Slytherins had to see that. They had to see that Malfoy, being the most out-spoken and pompous of the lot made those who never stood up to him, all look like mindless followers. Didn't they?

Harry was snapped out of his musings by the sound of tiny little Professor Flitwick's voice as he entered the Great Hall. "Oh, Mister Potter! Mister Potter!" Flitwick cried, nearly bouncing and reminding Harry oddly enough of Dobby when the little elf was excited. "You've done it, Mister Potter, you've done it! Your insightful inspiration on the catalysing emotion of the Patronus Charm is simply brilliant!" Other students were now watching the scene, and Professor McGonagall was just entering the Great Hall but stopped as she saw Professor Flitwick nearly self-levitating with exuberance as he praised Harry. "I was working with the fifth year Gryffindors this morning and we began to talk about the Patronus Charm at the end of class and Miss Weasley and Mister Creevey told me about your theory—it's _brilliant_, Mister Potter!" said Flitwick clapping excitedly. "Oh, I do say, _I say_, how about fifty points to Gryffindor, Mister Potter, for your _brilliant_ deduction! This could help hundreds of witches and wizards to learn to defend themselves! Oh, simply brilliant!" 

"Er, thank you, Professor," an embarrassed Harry said.

The tiny wizard then turned to the astonished looking Professor McGonagall and started gushing again, "Oh, Minerva, have you heard?"

"Well, thankfully that more than makes up for all the points Snape took from you in class, Harry," Hermione said as she came up behind him and they each settled in at the Gryffindor table for lunch. "What was so important that had you talking all class anyway?" she asked.

"What?" Harry said indignantly. "We're supposed to be working as a team in these groups and he has the nerve to take points when I talk to them—let him. It obviously makes him happy like little else can." Harry waved away his loss of points due to Snape and said, "Besides, I was just trying to get a feel for how deep Malfoy's claws are into all the other Slytherins. You know, if there's one thing the whole lot of them are, it's cunning. But Malfoy, he seems the _least_ cunning of the lot at times. The rest, they've got to know he's more a liability to them than any threat he could actually pose now with his father off and away."

Hermione looked thoughtful at this and sipped her goblet of pumpkin juice in contemplation. After a moment, she asked quietly, "Harry, do you know where Lucius Malfoy is being kept? Don't tell me," she said hurriedly. "I'm just asking if Professor Dumbledore has told you."

Harry shook his head as he tossed a handful of crisps into his mouth. "No clue," he said after he swallowed. "Think I should ask? Part of me hopes they're somewhere awful," he confessed. 

Hermione couldn't muster a reproving look and simply nodded her agreement. "Me, too," she said quietly. She looked up towards the head table and then grinned into her napkin as she nudged Harry to look up there. 

Up at the head table, Professor Flitwick was gesticulating wildly as he no doubt extolled the brilliance of Harry's insight with the Patronus Charm to half the staff. Harry saw Professor Dumbledore up there, twinkling away as he listened to the tiny professor before he looked up to catch Harry's eye and wink. Harry also saw Professor Snape walk up to the table, turn to listen to Flitwick and then, in a disgusted snort, spin on his heal and stalk away with his robes billowing behind him. It was enough to make Harry grin. 

But it wasn't back to smiles and innocence for long. The first thing Professor Dumbledore said when Harry entered his office after lunch for their scheduled time was not to echo Professor Flitwick's praises but rather to start in on yet more distressing news. There was evidence of three different muggle family killings both Saturday night and Sunday night that bore all the hallmarks of a Death Eater training and torture session. 

"The details are…gruesome, at best, Harry," Dumbledore said with no trace of a twinkle in his eyes. "The details come from the reports from nearby muggles that were interviewed by responding Ministry members before being Obliviated." Dumbledore held the parchment still in his hand.

"I should know…I should know what they're capable of," Harry said resolutely and gesturing to see the parchment that the Professor was holding. 

Dumbledore handed the parchment over with a long look at Harry and then Harry read. _Wife was raped in front of her husband and children on the front lawn…children were Banished up into the air and then used for moving target practice and were hit with green light (Killing Curse)…husband was then made to attack his dead children with a knife… when the wife tried to stop him, he was made to murder her with the knife…the man was then levitated and as he fell to the ground, was hit with a Blasting Curse that blew him to bits_. Harry was nearly sick and ready to send up his lunch after reading it. He pushed the parchment back onto Dumbledore's desk. Averting his eyes for a moment, he asked, hesitantly, "Are they, er, all that bad?" referring to the other two attacks Dumbledore had mentioned. 

"I'm afraid so."

"And was there a point to these killings?" Harry asked, suddenly demanding an explanation. "The other attacks…what did these helpless muggles ever do to anyone?"

Dumbledore rose from his high-backed chair behind his desk and walked around to put a hand on Harry's shoulder in order to guide him over to the fireside chairs. "It's true, Harry," he said as he gently led Harry to be seated, "that there is no discernable point apparent as the motive for any of these last three attacks. This is how it was the last time, Harry. It's sport to them, going after those who are in truth defenceless against a wizard. A training exercise for those who are new or perhaps out of practice for the sport, but sport nonetheless."

"That's barbaric," Harry said with contempt.

Dumbledore nodded once with a frown and said, "That's how many witches and wizards have been raised, Harry. They believe that our race is superior and therefore, the muggles, inferior. I think we can expect to see a lot of this, unfortunately."

Harry leaned forward and said in a rush, "But don't we know who's involved? How many supporters does he have now? Shouldn't Snape have been able to warn us his ranks were growing and that these attacks were eminent?" 

"I'll answer one question at a time," Dumbledore said with a calming gesture towards Harry. "The only reports we have what the attackers looked like is from the muggle witnesses and the extent of that description was 'dark robes and white faces'—masks. It is common for Death Eaters to wear—"

"I know, white masks. I've seen 'em, remember?" Harry said, clearly feeling frustrated. 

"I know, Harry." There was a long pause where Harry nearly stared a hole into the hearthside rug and then Dumbledore said, "Knowing that there were approximately six to eight separate groups of attacking Death Eaters on Halloween night and guessing that each group would have, at minimum three people each, we can assume he has at least twenty some servants." 

"Were any of those the ones we already know to be his servants?" Harry asked with great effort to remain calm. He knew Dumbledore was right and that attacks like these were bound to become more common; he had to get a grip on himself and not fall apart every time there was some attack. 

"There is no way for us to tell, Harry. As for Professor Snape, he has lost some favor of late. As Remus told you yesterday, Professor Snape had to recently report back to Lord Voldemort that he failed in procuring the information from the assignment given to your Defense class. I'm sure this did not help. But beyond even that, there appears to be plans in the works beyond the scope of Professor Snape's knowledge and involvement. 

"You will recall that there was a report of potion ingredients being stolen after the break in at St. Mungo's? This is indeed most troubling. For the most part, Professor Snape is in an ideal position here as a Potions Master working for the Dark Lord. He can order and possess a great variety of even ingredients of a questionable nature without causing undue alarm. The fact that ingredients had to be stolen seems to indicate there is someone else whose potion-making skills are in employ by Voldemort. This will limit our insight into just what he is planning." 

Harry stared into the empty fireplace, thinking. "Is he still working to locate his incarcerated followers? Just where are they anyway?" he asked, turning to look shrewdly at Dumbledore. Harry knew Dumbledore was the one responsible for Lucius Malfoy and his little friends being lost to the world and unable to be located by the best efforts Voldemort had to put forth.

Dumbledore peered intently at Harry for a moment and, templing his long fingers, said, "I would say, Harry, that I do not wish to tell you for your own good but I fear you would then hex me." His eyes seemed to be twinkling as he said this but Harry was determined to not be amused. "However, I will say, it is a very small number of people, indeed who know the answer to that question. I believe I have been most ingenious in my endeavour to hide these servants from Voldemort but I shall ask you to allow me to keep it a secret for yet a little longer."

Harry wanted to argue but just knew it would be pointless. With a sigh, he asked, "Can you tell me at least who it is that do know?"

Dumbledore smiled and twinkled merrily as he laid a finger alongside his crooked nose and said, "Ah, well, there are a handful that know some details of my plan but no one--save me--knows the whole of it. Now, tell me about how you came to your inspiration upon the emotion behind the Patronus Charm." And with that, their time was brought round to more academic issues. 

Harry was just about to leave when he felt the nagging feeling he was supposed to bring up something else. 

"Yes, Harry?" Dumbledore prompted.

Harry frowned, trying to recall just what he had forgot. "I'm not sure. I know there was something else I wanted to discuss with you, sir, but I just cannot recall."

"Ah," Dumbledore said with a knowing smile. "The same happens to me more than I care to remember. You'll let me know, I'm sure, when it comes to you."

The week progressed with no one mentioning the absence of Gregory Goyle. Then again, as there were a number of students out of classes because of the losses of a family member, some may have just assumed the same was true for Goyle. 

In Charms class, that week, Professor Flitwick abandoned his previously planned curriculum to have everyone working the entire class period upon mastering the Patronus Charm. Harry lost count of the number of times the tiny professor commented that he, Harry, had been the one to just a few days ago, propose that the truly empowering emotion behind the Charm was hope and not merely happiness. Hermione kept beaming at him, but Harry was just plain embarrassed by all the attention and praise. He also noted that both Ron and Draco Malfoy were wearing frighteningly similar scowls just about every time Flitwick mentioned his name. 

Before Thursday's Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry remembered to tell Hermione what Remus had said regarding the wardings assignment and how Dumbledore had seized them. He had not been looking forward to telling her this since the bogus assignment was the cause of her getting a week's worth of detentions from Snape and her notorious 'extra credit assignment'. 

"Hmm," she said, frowning slightly and chewing on her lower lip. "Well, that is interesting." 

She didn't say anymore and Harry didn't ask. Throughout the class while Snape managed to drone on and make even Defense seem droll, Harry would sneak a glance at Hermione (something he often did whenever the chance was given to him) and see her still worrying her bottom lip in contemplation of some mystery. 

As class was nearing the end and Snape was just completing assigning the reading, Hermione's hand shot into the air and Harry got a distinctly bad feeling. 

"Professor Snape!" she called out, waving her hand to be seen.

Snape looked up with a glower and seemed to struggle not to let out the most exasperated of sighs on the spot. "What, Miss Granger?" was his tersely ground out reply.

"Well, I was wondering sir, when you expected to return our assignments of home wardings and protections. It's been nearly two weeks and you've usually handed them back by now," she said with what Harry believed was a trace of smugness. 

It was true, Harry thought, that is was noticeable that they had not yet had the assignment returned to them with their marks. Usually, Snape was extremely expedient in returning their assignments to them; after all, how difficult was it to pick out Harry's, slap red ink all over it, mark it with a poor grade and some derisive comment and then to toss the handful of remaining parchments down a dingy set of dungeon stairs and grade them randomly according to how they fell? (Harry and Ron had long ago developed this theory of Snape's marking system back around the time of second year Potions.)

Snape had his jaw clenched and was working his mouth into a very straight line. Harry thought he was probably trying to best determine what type of torturous detention to send Hermione off to next. "The syllabus for this course was designed by Headmaster Dumbledore himself. He seems to have had a particular interest in that assignment and they are currently in his possession. If you wish, Miss Granger, I am sure I can give you a mark for the assignment without even needing to read your parchment. Would this be to your liking?"

The bell rang then to signal the end of class and Hermione smiled sweetly and said, "That's quite all right, Professor. Thank you," and then turned to Harry, still smiling innocently and rose to leave. 

"What the hell was that about?" Harry asked to no one in particular as Hermione walked out, still smiling. 

Ron, who had been walking towards the exit himself shook his head and turned to Harry to say, "Still say she's a bit mental, that one. _Mental_." Harry wasn't so sure he could really argue the point either. 

"Are you going to tell me what your little Defense class stunt was all about?" Harry asked as he caught up to Hermione entering the library. 

She rolled her eyes at him, smiling and led him to their normal remote table. "I was giving him a chance to tell his story. Remember what you told me earlier about what Remus said? It does no good if no one here at school can corroborate the story. Besides, it would look dually suspicious if I, Hermione-grade-obsessed-Granger was not to ask about why that assignment seems to have just disappeared now. Oh, hello, Neville," she said, spying their classmate coming around the corner.

"Hey guys," Neville said, seeming to not want to interrupt anything. "Did you want to work more on your project, Hermione?" 

"Oh, definitely," Hermione said with a smile. 

For whatever reason, Neville had seemed fascinated with the research that Hermione was unearthing for her extra assignment. Neville had even owled his Gran for some books that he knew she had that might help them. Whatever the reason, Harry was happy Hermione had someone other than just him to direct in doing research for her. 

On Friday morning, the return of Abby and Seamus (Katie, too since she had insisted on leaving to be at Angelina's funeral) seemed to pull any remaining Gryffindors out of the glum state an awful lot of them had endured throughout the week. 

At breakfast, Hermione received two owls: one bearing her usual copy of the Daily Prophet and the other bearing a small, bagged parcel that an owl dropped and then extended a leg pouch just like the Prophet's delivery owl, demanding payment. 

"Oh, it's my new subscriptions," Hermione said, excited. She pulled out a coin purse and paid each owl until they went away. 

"What's the parcel?" Harry asked.

Hermione was first skimming over the Prophet as was her custom. "Oh, I took out subscriptions to a couple of muggle papers to keep up on what's happening that the Prophet doesn't report. Oh, look," she said lowering the paper to the table and pointing for Harry to see. 

_Former Star Beater and Head of Magical Games and Sports Officially Declared Missing_ read the headline at the bottom of one of the inner pages of the paper. Harry read further down, skimming the article quickly. _…Ludovic Bagman has reportedly been unstable and been prone to long bouts of mysterious disappearances for over a year now according to Ministry sources…Ministry spokeswizards cite a gambling addiction as the impetus for his deterioration and the subsequent appointment of an interim head of his former department…some have engaged in speculation of retaliation for Bagman's fingering of Algernon Rookwood as a servant of You-Know-Who…Rookwood was one of the eleven convicted Death Eaters who broke from Azkaban prison last year and is currently being held in Ministry custody at an unnamed location…_

"Bagman's missing," Harry said quietly. "Maybe the Goblins decided to do him in," he suggested weakly. 

"Maybe," Hermione said. "But didn't Si—er, Snuffles, tell us a few years ago that disappearances were common the last time Voldemort was in power?" Hermione said. "Hmm," Hermione mused as she emptied out the bag that contained two newspapers. 

One was The Daily Telegraph, which Harry recalled had been a favorite of Uncle Vernon's. The other was The Sun, which Harry definitely recalled being one that his aunt often spoke to being highly offensive and rather tasteless, despite the fact that he'd seen it tucked beneath several fine living magazines and folded into a small square as his aunt still saw fit to read the highly offensive publication. In fact, now that he thought about it, Dudley seemed to have a certain affinity for collecting the old copies of The Sun from the rubbish bin… "Hermione," Harry said warningly as she lifted the Telegraph up and opened it to skim its contents. "Do you really think The Sun is an appropriate thing to have here?"

"Oh," she said, lowering the paper from her face. "I know it's a bit out there, but so is The Quibbler and we know how accurate that can be. I thought it might be a good idea to see what stuff it prints. You know, there's nearly always some tiny grain of truth in all those mad tales." Wanting to prove her point, Hermione pulled The Sun over towards her and scanned the front page (Harry only made out the word 'Bizarre' at the top) and then flipped it open and folded it back as she read down the second page. 

"_Bloody hell!"_ Lavender said from across the table. She was sitting directly across from Harry and Hermione and her eyes were as wide as saucers and her mouth was hanging open. Parvati soon followed suit in nearly identical fashion. 

Hermione had slammed the paper down at their exclamations and was now looking around for the source of their shock. Harry, recalling just now why Dudley had an affinity for collecting the old copies of this paper had a sneaking suspicion just what had set Lavender and Parvati off. He gingerly lifted a corner of the paper and flipped it over for Hermione (and him) to see. 

"Bloody Hell!" Hermione said with a gasp as she then quickly covered up the notorious Page Three Girl of the Day, flushing an alarming color of red.

"Yeah," Harry said slowly to Hermione. "Yeah…you best make sure no one else sees that, like especially McGonagall. Yeah…"

Even before the end of breakfast, Harry had heard the gossip beginning from Lavender and Pavarti as to Hermione's new 'tastes' in newspapers. By dinner, the gossip had permutated to be something that had most of the guys smirking at both he and Hermione and had several of the girls glaring at him. He really did not want to know just why. It was with actual relief that Harry slipped out of the Great Hall to the evening's Order meeting. 

As every single person who was attending the meeting arrived, they each professed to have a litany of 'notable' observances and numerous suspicions. Hermione quickly instructed Harry how to bewitch a quill to take dictation and he had at least three of them now scratching hurriedly and filling up roll after roll of parchment. There was only a small number of Order members present; Remus, Kingsley, Arthur Weasley, Moody, and few others of the Order's Outer Council who stopped by for only a few minutes. It was rather chaotic and Harry was very grateful they had agreed to use these regular meeting mostly to facilitate the gathering of information. The real work of going over all the information and trying to decipher what it all meant was something that would be done within the Inner Council. 

As they began to congregate and everyone talked at the same time, Harry suddenly recalled what it was he'd needed to talk to Dumbledore about--the voices. How he'd been hearing them on Halloween throughout the Order Meeting and how they had seemed to be different than normal. _Hearing voices is NOT normal_, Harry sternly told himself. He'd been so busy this week that every night thus far, he'd dropped into bed half-asleep before he pulled the duvet over him. He hadn't had a chance to even think about the voices again. Harry turned to see Dumbledore across the room, talking earnestly with Kingsley. Maybe if he told Hermione to remind him to ask talk about the voices, she'd make sure he didn't forget. (That was for sure, she'd be likely to badger him non-stop until he told _her_ about them.)

Harry was just about to roll up the reports Emmeline Vance had just dropped off and head over to Hermione, when Bill Weasley walked in, looking dishevelled and red-faced. The first thing that Bill said was, "Well, Harry, Fudge is now drafting a proposal to allow Ministries to seize assets of prisoners serving life sentences. Edward Planesse, the Finance Authority Council official who's been running Fudge's efforts to raise money for the Ministry just scheduled an appointment to meet with the Governing Goblins. He wants to make sure the proposal covers everything before it's submitted to go before the International Wizards Council." Bill was glowering and as he spoke and added, "We're lucky that Fleur just happened to be the one to take his request to schedule the meeting! She said Planesse had been _most_ insistent to her that news of this meeting not to get out to anyone. What a right mess!" 

"Did I just hear you correctly, Weasley?" Moody say, his peg leg stomping upon the stone floor as he came up to them. "Fudge is…_a rotting old fool_!" Harry had never seen Moody with such a disgusted look on his face (and that was saying a lot). 

"I'll say," Bill said, nodding along. "The rest of the day all the Goblins could only be heard speaking in Gobbledegook. Bad sign," Bill said, shaking his head now. 

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Why?" Bill said. "Because only the smallest handful of Wizards can speak it! It's notoriously impossible to learn without it being taught to you by a Goblin himself. Barty Crouch was the last one I knew who could do it. Dumbledore probably can. Cuthbert Mockridge from the Liaison office is self-taught but I get the feeling he isn't very good and that he merely insults the Goblins more than actually communicating with them. No, when the Goblins start to talk amongst themselves, Harry, it usually means they're talking about something they don't want non-Goblins to know anything about." 

Moody grunted disgustedly and said, "Fudge ought to be looking at the war upon his doorstep, not padding his bankroll! He'll be the death of us all..." Moody stomped off, shaking his fist.

Arthur Weasley had numerous copies of reports from his office that had been shunted his way in response to the recent attacks on muggles. There were two more since Monday, each as pointless as the next. Because of his 'expertise' in dealing with Muggles, Mr. Weasley had been asked to help out with the interviewing of neighbouring muggles and the subsequent Obliviating of them. He was looking ragged and worn down from the extra work but said, "Amelia asked me herself to help with this. Molly is all a fret about the overtime I'm working…and well, with Fudge saying the Ministry may only be able to pay so much of it out…I can't say. But really, I can't let Amelia down. The war's only just begun!" 

As Harry heard this, he felt the weight of his responsibility weighing down upon him. It wasn't something he was often conscious of and he rarely allowed himself to dwell upon it but he felt it now. None of this would end--pointless torturing of helpless muggles, vengeful murders of those deemed blood-traitors, the fear in the eyes of students, teachers and the members of the Order--it was all fated to go on. _Greater and more terrible than ever he was_…the memory of Trelawney's prediction made to Harry haunted him now and he just knew he hadn't a chance to end things before they got worse…much worse. 

Saturday dawned a bright but crisp and blustery autumn day. It promised to be a fine day for watching quidditch and most especially, Harry thought, if you weren't the one who had to try to fly with the ominous tailwind. The mood about the castle was as cheerful and charged as ever this morning and none were more excited than the Hufflepuffs. The Hufflepuffs were passing around scarves and banners emblazoned with their House colours and crest. Many a Ravenclaw and Gryffindor could be found donning the black and gold to support the team who was opposing Slytherin. 

"Who's Smith got for Keeper now?" Zoe asked Ginny. 

"Dunno, hope he falls off his broom, though. Look at him," Ginny said, pointing towards the Hufflepuff table where Zacharias Smith was heartily shaking hands with anyone donning their House colors. Harry thought he looked a bit like a politician running for office. 

"Here's a blurb about the new Head of Magical Games and Sports," Hermione said, holding up her copy of the Daily Prophet to skim across each page quickly before settling to read one story at a time. 

"Anything else new in there?" Harry asked, of course hoping there wasn't. 

"Mm, not that I see, yet," Hermione mused. She lowered the paper and looked across the Hall at the ruckus Smith was making. "You know, Harry, I don't think I'll be going to the game today. I've too much more research I want to do on my extra credit assignment. Neville was helping me yesterday afternoon again and perhaps he'll help again today."

"It's such lovely quidditch weather, though!" Harry said in disbelief that she couldn't at least be tempted to spend part of the day outside. 

"Yes, well, and you'll be busy scouting out your opposition. No doubt Ron will love to help you at your side. I'll more than enjoy myself in the library," Hermione said with conviction. It was true, Ron _had_ been talking all about the upcoming game and how he and Harry had to watch the other teams to determine their weaknesses. 

"Well, what about Lavender and Pavarti?" Harry asked. "I thought they were helping you with this 'extra credit assignment', too."

Hermione looked incredulous. "You think they'd give up a prime opportunity to watch wizards fly around in quidditch tights? Surely you jest."

"They are not tights," Harry said with a growl and a deep frown. 

Hermione just raised her eyebrows at him. "Believe what you like." She leaned in closer and whispered, "I think they show off some of your better assets even if they are tights." She pulled back from the open-mouthed Harry and went on as before, saying, "Besides, Lavender and Parvati only like to volunteer to help when _you're_ around. They're convinced we'll forget they're around and start to snog like mad or something if they hang around us enough." She nodded knowingly at Harry's terrified look and said, "Oh yes, they're getting very desperate for gossipy details on you. I swear, I wouldn't even take a glass of water from one of them for fear it'd be laced with Veritaserum."

For all the hype a Hogwarts Quidditch match was, it was certainly disappointing when Slytherin flew out onto the pitch sporting a nameless new Beater. Harry and Ron had arrived early and secured prime seats in the front of one of the boxes. 

"Ah, hell, who's that great lug?" Ron asked, disgusted that Slytherin wasn't going to forfeit. He'd been dreaming of a Slytherin forfeit despite the fact that Harry kept trying to tell him he didn't think it was possible at Hogwarts. Harry remembered back in his third year when Malfoy had claimed to have been viscously attacked by Buckbeak, that Slytherin requested that their game with Gryffindor be rescheduled due to their Seeker's injury. 

"I'm telling you, Harry," Ron protested. "On the day of the match, if a side can't field a full team, then they forfeit! What do you think almost happened at the end of our first year? They couldn't find a real Seeker in time but Wood knew if he didn't throw _someone_ out there to play, that we'd have had to forfeit!" Ron shook his head. ""Probably would have been better; we got _steamrolled_."

"Oh," said Harry glumly. _Stupid Philosopher's Stone_, he thought. How Ron could manage to know so many trivial and varied facts about the game of quidditch was beyond Harry. 

"Look at that--he looks a little like Pucey --big, mean and ugly! Maybe they're related?" Ron said pointing at the new Beater who was warming up with Crabbe, belting a Bludger back and forth. 

"That sounds like half the players Slytherin ever had, Ron," Harry quipped, taking his Omnioculars and bringing them to his face. 

"Oi!" Ron called, nearly knocking Harry over the rail as he lunged over, waving. "Katie!! Over here!" Ron was waving madly trying to get Katie Bell's attention. Harry couldn't see how anyone could miss him.

"Hope you don't mind," Ron said craning his neck to watch the players warming up and to make sure Katie was heading their way. "I told her she could watch with us."

"Hey guys," Katie said, looking much more calm than she had been almost a week ago. 

Ron shoved Harry over and made to let Katie stand beside him but Katie said, "It's so windy up here! I'm going to stand between you two so you can block the brunt of it for me." She slipped in front of Harry and settled in between him and Ron. 

"How are you doing, Katie?" Harry asked in greeting. 

She smiled sheepishly and said, "Fine now. Thanks for putting up with me before… you know…"

"Not a problem," Harry said, waving it away and pulling out a pair of gloves for his hands. "How's Alicia doing? You saw her, right?" 

"Oh yes, she's…about as well as me. Oh! Oliver--we couldn't believe it--even he showed up! And Lee, Fred and George…they were great." She shook her head with a small smile. "Who knew the twins could be serious?" Harry nodded knowingly. 

"Wow, look at Bulstrode!" Ron said, nudging Katie and pointing to where Millicent was just coming up after executing a perfect Sloth-Grip Roll. 

Katie looked for a brief moment and then turned back to Harry. "They all decided--Fred, George, Lee, Alicia and Oliver if he can make it--to come to our game against Ravenclaw. I think Oliver would skip a practice to make it--he can't believe you're now a big sixth year and can properly captain the team. I think we saw him working on a pregame speech at the funeral."

Ron clapped mocking applause as he shouted, "Way to go, Smith! You just pelted your own Keeper with the Quaffle! Did you see that?" he asked, nudging Katie again. 

"Our first game," Harry said to Katie. "We'll win for Angelina." Katie smiled up at him and with a sniff, threw an arm around him for a hug. Harry looked over her head to see Ron scowling at them and tried to shrug to his friend. Harry was just about to suggest that Katie tell Ron the plan, too when a chorus of screams rang across the pitch. 

~ * ~ * ~* ~ * ~

Yeah…I know. What an awful cliffhanger. Well, if you don't like that, then you're going to hate this--There won't be an update next week Monday. With Christmas and all, there is just no way I can get it done. I have like no plans for New Years though as of yet (Lo-_oser_!) and I should be okay to get back on the schedule the following Monday (Jan 5th). But don't worry, this cliffie isn't really a big one--nothing to fret over…really. I just needed to end it so I could go do my xmas shopping!! No…just kidding….well, not really, it is the truth. Anyway, I'm going to use any spare time this holiday (yeah right) to reorganize the gigantic pile that is my notes for writing this work and make sure I don't miss something I had planned like way back when. 

Happy Holidays!!! 


	33. Chapter 36 Potter's Army

Ron clapped mocking applause as he shouted, "Way to go, Smith!  You just pelted your own Keeper with the Quaffle!  Did you see that?" he asked, nudging Katie again.  

"Our first game," Harry said to Katie.  "We'll win for Angelina."  Katie smiled up at him and with a sniff, threw an arm around him for a hug.  Harry looked over her head to see Ron scowling at them and tried to shrug to his friend.  Harry was just about to suggest that Katie tell Ron the plan, too when a chorus of screams rang across the pitch.

*          *            *            *            *            *            *

Chapter 36. Potter's Army    

_Voldemort!!_  It was the first thought that screamed itself inside Harry's mind.  His wand was drawn in a flash but he wasn't prepared for what he saw as his eyes focused on the pitch.  

A Slytherin green blur was fast falling from the sky, with no broom in sight.  

Harry's mind whirled on what spell could be used to stop the figure of swirling green robes from crashing into the pitch.  _It's a person, I can't control it like an object…Transfigure it?  Into what--a bird?  Would it know how to fly? I'll never be able to hit it in freefall like that.  The gap between the flailing figure and the grassy green pitch was fast narrowing and Harry pointed his wand at the earth in a general guess of the soon to be splat.  "_Pillovinus_," he muttered.  It was a Cushioning Charm and all he could think of as he now saw the robes billowing upwards in the wind to reveal a terror stricken pointy face with pale blond hair.   _

Draco Malfoy's body impacted the earth and the instinctive gasp and cringes from the gathering crowd at first made Harry believe he'd failed to help.  But then, Harry with his eyes glued wide open, saw Malfoy's body not splat upon the ground but sink into a depression and then, as if taking a breath, the depression filled back up, tossing the body a foot or so into the air before it landed again with a final bounce.  

Those who had seen it were dumbstruck and those who'd turned to avoid the scene of impact were now peeking through splayed fingers or over a friend's clutched shoulder, unable to not peak.  

"Oh, my," Katie said weakly and making Harry quite painfully aware of the fact that, even through his heavy cloak, Katie's fingers were digging into his upper arm in a painful and deathly grip.  He turned a bit towards her and prised her hand away as she looked up at him.  "How in the world…" she said in an awed voice and then turned, looking down as players flew to the ground around the fallen Malfoy.

Ron suddenly seemed to wake from his shock and, still looking down at the pitch, said, "What is--?" and then snapped his mouth shut.  He turned and looked at Harry with an inscrutable look on his face and then quickly pushed in front of Katie and Harry, saying, "I've got to go."

Harry was dimly aware that Katie was looking up at him.  "You…Harry, _you saved him," she said in hushed awe.  "__I heard you—I heard you mutter the spell!"  _

"Shh," Harry said, shaking his head and looking around to notice everyone else seemed too shocked or busy whispering to have heard Katie.  "No," he shook his head.  "I didn't do anything."  She looked like she didn't quite believe him but turned back to observe the growing scene.

Harry and Katie both now looked down at the ground and saw the whole Slytherin team, Madam Hooch, Professor Sprout and Viktor Krum all gathered around a shaken but surly looking Draco Malfoy.  Madam Hooch especially seemed to want to have a good look at Malfoy and make sure he was really in working order but the Slytherin Seeker could be seen pushing her away and frantically looking for someone to blame.  

"Let's go down there," Harry said and barely waited for Katie to nod.  They met Ginny and Zoe on the steps from the stands and rushed over to the growing group on the pitch.  There were able to walk to the center of the congregation by following Madam Pomfrey who was sternly shouting, "Make way!! Out of the way!  NOW!"  

There was a chorus of people asking each other what had happened and why Malfoy had seemed to bounce off the earth but no one was louder now than the nurse.  

"_What_ in the name of Merlin happened?" she demanded, taking Malfoy forcibly by the shoulders and peering into his eyes.  "I'm just about to head out for the game and I see you doing some fool dive—_without a broom_!"  She now had her wand out and was running over and alongside his body.  

But Malfoy wanted none of this and as her wand ran down his front and took on a bluish glow, he pushed her arm away and said, "No! Witch—leave me _alone_!" 

"Mister Malfoy!" Madam Pomfrey said, clearly insulted and affronted by his manner.  

"What, may I ask, is the meaning of this?" suddenly came Snape's resonating baritone, pushing through the students and stopping just in front of Harry.  "Mister Malfoy—explain!" he commanded.

"Severus," Madam Hooch interrupted as she strode forward into the center of the circle.  "I think I can explain."  She looked at Malfoy with narrowed eyes and said, "I believe your Mister Malfoy here was using a spell of some sort to keep himself upon his broomstick."  She turned and gestured towards someone who seemed to not be where she thought he would be and then craned her neck to scan the people gathered.  "There—Professor Krum," she pointed to the back of the gathering where, and Harry had to look twice, Viktor Krum was getting an earful from Ron.  "Viktor," Hooch went on, "was just telling me some of the standard practices for International matches and mentioned a sweep of the pitch and players to end any non-standard, approved spells.  I thought I might give it a go."  

"You took off the _spells on my broom?" Malfoy shouted now, incredulous and irate.  He then whipped around, Harry guessed, to look for his broom.  "That was a _Nimbus 2001_—you'll pay for a new one!"_

Hooch was clearly not amused by Malfoy and stepped into his direct line of sight and said, "Your broom is still a broom, Mister Malfoy.  But I have to ask then, just what _additional_ spells did you have on it that prevented you from being able to stay aboard it when they were ended?  Is it possible you cannot _ride a broom without extra spells to help you stay on?" she asked, seeming to grow taller as Malfoy, in turn, shrank, red-faced.  Several people gathered around found this notion quite amusing and Malfoy's face grew even enraged from their chuckling._

"Mister Malfoy," Snape's voice intoned as Harry watched his gaze slide from Ron and Krum back to Malfoy.  "Come!"

Madam Hooch puffed herself out and up, saying, "Severus, I insist to know—"

"Later," Snape said, grabbing Malfoy by the elbow and dragging him through the parting crowd.

Madam Pomfrey then made to follow them and calling out, "That boy has something wrong with him!"

"I'll say," Ginny muttered behind Harry, making Zoe snicker.

"Well," Hooch said, looking spitefully at the retreating forms of Snape and Malfoy.  "This match is scheduled to start now.  If you're not a player—_clear out!_  Captains?"

"What?"

"No!"

"He just took our Seeker!"

Harry wanted to grin at the Slytherins' sudden panic as he and the others not playing backed away and cleared off the pitch.  He could see Millicent Bulstrode looking frantically about and she just grabbed a young Slytherin from a group walking past and said, "You--," she shoved what must have been Malfoy's Nimbus 2001 at him, "—fly into the changing rooms and throw on a uniform—_now!"_

Ginny just turned to Harry and Katie and asked, "Did you see anyone soften the ground or something?  How did he not become Slytherin Soup?"

A loud, gleeful laugh then announced Ron as he came bounding up to Harry and the others.  "Did you see that!?"  He was nearly clapping and bouncing.  "Those _snakes don't have a prayer now!  That kid Bulstrode just picked looked like he's about to wet himself!"  _

But Harry wasn't really listening.  He was now bothered about why Ron and had been talking to Viktor about something.  There had also been that time when, through the use of the Marauder's Map, Harry had seen them together in a room one night when Ron was avoiding the DA.  Harry really wanted to know.  "Ron, since when are you friends with Viktor Krum?" he asked.  But Ron and the rest of them were nearly mowed down as the new Slytherin Seeker tore out towards the pitch on the broom, his feet almost grazing their heads as he streaked over them.

"Looks like he isn't having a problem staying on the broom," Zoe quipped and nodding appreciatively at the speedy replacement.  

They made their way back to the stands and finally found new seats as the game began.  Harry felt Katie giving him questioning looks and he finally just leaned over and whispered, "I don't want anyone to know I was the one who did that—they'll all ask me why."

"Well, why did you?" she asked, clearly confused why Harry, of all people, would save Malfoy.  

Harry shrugged. "Habit of mine--it's a saving people thing."  He smirked.  

Katie smiled wryly and then asked shrewdly, "Did you even know who it was?"

"Not until just before he bounced," Harry said and Katie nodded, satisfied.

Harry then spent the rest of the match watching both the game and Ron who was a very vocal Hufflepuff supporter for the day.  Why did Ron suddenly seem to have a friendly relationship with Viktor Krum?  And how, he wondered as the Slytherin team consistently outplayed Hufflepuff, was he going to get Gryffindor in shape to beat this Slytherin team?  Millicent was an excellent Keeper and despite Smith's fair play at Chaser, only allowed two goals.  

The match turned out to be a fairly good one.  Harry kept expecting Malfoy to come storming back out and demanding his spot back but it never happened.  The new Beater and new Seeker for Slytherin seemed to work quite well for them as they ended up trouncing Hufflepuff with a score of 220-20 in just under an hour.  

Ron was of course disgusted with the final score but cheered himself back up by wondering if Malfoy might now be replaced permanently as Seeker.  

"You know, we do have to play them—perhaps we should be glad to see Malfoy's ineptness back on the pitch," Ginny said reminding him that perhaps they ought to hope to face the lesser talented of the two Seekers.

Ron seemed to mull over and said, "Well, that's one way to look at it, Gin.  I'll need to compare the benefits of seeing Malfoy being replaced versus seeing Harry nick the Snitch out from under the ferret's nose yet again."

Harry grinned at Ron's faith in his Seeking abilities and was about to ask if he wanted to go to the library together to work on their Charms homework as they walked into the Entrance Hall.  But before Harry could ask, a new voice cut across the Hall, making Harry cringe.

"Potter!" Snape's curt voice rang out as the Potions Master came to an abrupt halt, robes swirling around his legs and settling with a flutter.  "To my office—now," he barked and then whirled away, clearly intending for Harry to have nothing better to do than obey.

Harry's friends grimaced their sympathy as they parted ways and Harry reluctantly trudged off down the corridor that led below to the dungeons.  

"I don't have all day, Potter," Snape growled warningly as he stood waiting at his office door.  Harry made sure to not speed up one bit.  

"What is this about?" Harry asked as he entered the office he'd been forcibly thrown out of last year.  

"I'll be asking the questions, Potter," Snape barked as he waved his wand to slam the door shut behind Harry.  Snape stood with his arms crossed, staring intently at Harry with his black, fathomless eyes narrowed.  "What did you do out there?"

"I didn't do anything," Harry began to protest but Snape waved his hand and cut him off.

"Don't lie to me, Potter!  I know… I _know _you_ had something to do this," he said with his eyes glinting and Harry noted his wand hand seemed to be twitching restlessly.  Before Harry could protest again, Snape, in a dangerously smooth tone said, "You were in the class just this week where you witnessed Mister Malfoy's injury." Harry frowned at this in confusion.  "You knew Malfoy would need customized charms upon his broom to play in today's match."_

Harry was frowning deeply now and quite frankly very lost. "I really don't know what—"

"Don't lie to me!" Snape shouted, and stomped one foot in a very childish manner.  A wisp of his greasy black hair was now hanging down across one eye and for whatever reason, it bothered Harry immensely.  Snape's eyes flashed wildly as he took a step towards Harry and then snarled, "_The Bubotuber Pus_.  Surely you couldn't have forgotten what must be a very fond memory for you?"

Harry's face lit with recognition now.  Ernie Macmillan had 'accidentally' spilled Bubotuber Pus across his worktable and it had then 'accidentally' spilled onto Malfoy's lap.  Harry then flashed back to a memory of Hermione receiving hate mail back in fourth year when everyone thought she was two-timing Harry with Viktor Krum.  Someone had sent her an envelope filled with the pus and it had caused her hands to be instantly covered with painful thick sores that filled with pus and crusted over.  As Harry put the two memories together, he winced visibly as he realized just what injuries Malfoy would still be nursing and just where they would be.

"Yes, _now_ you remember what I'm talking about," Snape sneered. 

"But I didn't realize—I didn't do anything—if anything _I'm_ the one who saved him!" Harry said, shaking his head vigorously at the injustice of him being blamed for this mess.

Snape looked like he'd just caught Harry in well-designed trap.  "Yes, Potter, I'd already guessed that much.  You're little Cushioning Charm…yes… Who else, _but_ _you_ would rise so quickly to play the hero and save his enemy, hmm?"  Harry was truly perplexed now.  "Who else, _but you, Potter, would know how to endanger Mister Malfoy's life in such a situation where you would then be able to save him in front of the entire school?"_

"But no one knows!" Harry shouted.  "You heard Madam Hooch!  She said she cast the spell—"

"Yes, I heard perfectly well.  Are you telling me you think your _friend Viktor Krum just __happened to mention that __particular suggestion to Hooch just as Mister Malfoy was up in the air upon his broom?"_

"Yes!" Harry said but frowned as he looked at Snape.  "No—we're not _friends.  I haven't spoken to Krum since last week!  I never told him anything—ask him!"_

"Then why was your little red-headed friend smirking beside Krum?" Snape demanded and threw back his head, shaking the one wayward stringy strand of greasy hair back with the rest.

Harry frowned yet again and bit his lip.  He really needed to know just what was up between Ron and Krum.  Perplexed, he shook his head.  "I don't know, sir," he said, quietly now.

"Then I suggest you find out," Snape said in an equally quiet voice.  "And if it's true that no one saw you cast the Cushioning Charm then I also forbid you from telling anyone—including Mister Malfoy—just what you did."

"I don't _want anyone—_especially_ him—to know what I did!" Harry said, angry again.  _

Snape merely arched an eyebrow.  "Then we're agreed."

Harry was determined to find out what was going on with Ron when he headed back to Gryffindor Tower.   However, the chance to get Ron alone and ask never once occurred that night or even through the rest of the weekend.  Harry told Hermione what had happened and she thought it odd as well.  She suggest she ask Viktor about it at some point in the near future.  She also guessed that Snape didn't want Malfoy to find out Harry had saved his life because it wouldn't look good for one of Voldemort's junior Death Eaters to be indebted to Harry Potter.  Harry guessed this made sense since he remembered Professor Dumbledore saying something similar about Wormtail who was supposedly still in Harry's debt (though he saw no evidence of Wormtail thinking about repaying it anytime soon).

When Harry next met with Professor Dumbledore, the wise wizard was twinkling away and asked after only a minute, "So, Harry.  Do you know why it was that you chose to help Mister Malfoy when he was in need?"

Harry had just gotten done with a rotten Quidditch practice where everyone had been more focused on messing around than actually practicing.  "Yes, sir," Harry said.  "I helped because I hadn't a clue as to who it was falling until it was too late."   Harry knew he was being tetchy and he didn't much care.  He wasn't in the mood for Dumbledore's twinkling over his accidental saving of Malfoy.  It meant nothing.  

"Do you really believe, Harry, that if you knew who it was, you really could have sat back and watched him crash into the earth?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes penetrating and brows raised as if he already knew the answer.

Harry bit back a reply.  He really wanted to say, no, he probably couldn't have watched Malfoy crash into the pitch as he would have likely had to look away at the moment of impact.  But, wisely, he kept this comment to himself.  

"Well," Dumbledore said, seeming more than smugly satisfied at Harry's silence.  "Life debts have an odd way of being paid forward—even if they are not known to the person who is indebted."   He gave Harry one last, long look before moving on to their lesson.       

Harry had become very proficient with his mastery of the Boggart.  He was able to project simple images rapidly with ease.  His ability to maintain a mental shield about his mind was also strong now, however, Dumbledore had to give him a hint as to how he should conceptualize this shield.  As it stood now, Harry envisioned his shield as a brick wall that allowed him to see out but no one to see in.  In fact, during a lesson where Harry was only to concentrate on his shields while Dumbledore varied attacking his mind outright and setting forth a Boggart on him, the Boggart was caught several times taking the shape of a brick wall.  

Dumbledore mused on this and finally said, "I believe, Harry, that while effective in protecting your mind from attack, your conceptualized barrier still needs to evolve.  You see, even when your mind fends off my attacks, I glean the feeling of my probe bouncing off a brick wall.  It's accurate, yes, but also very clearly lets whomever is trying to attack your mind know they've not succeeded and that you have a shield in place.  Now, we've discussed this before and that the ultimate in mastery of Occlumency is being able to block attack unbeknownst to the attacker.  I shall give you a hint as to how this might be done successfully—imagine yourself successful and let that image of yourself guard your shield, or in your case, wall."  

Harry's puzzled frown was met only with twinkling as Dumbledore smiled and sent him on his way.  

"Mister Potter!" came the high voice of Professor Filius Flitwick, causing Harry to look up from the third year essays he was desperately trying to get marked before the start of their class.  "Mister Potter, I hoped I might find you in here!  I've been looking all over for you and ran into Miss Granger.  She suggested I might find you in here," he said, gesturing the mostly vacant Defense Office.  

"What do you need, Professor?" Harry asked, hastily glancing down the last bit of Stewart Ackerly's essay.  

It was a decidedly odd sight, Harry mused, as Professor Flitwick looked up to him, Harry, who was seated behind the old wooden desk.  "Well, Harry, I have been in contact with several friends and they all agree that your discovery about the Patronus Charm is indeed a step in the forward evolution in the understanding of the Charm.  In the best of times, it would be a standard in the academic study of the spell, however, with the unfortunate state of times as they are…"

"Yes, Professor?" Harry prompted, frowning a bit at the rambling Charms professor.

"Well," he beamed, "I spoke to an old student of mine who now works on the Ministry's Committee for Experimental Charms and, oh I do hope you don't mind, I mentioned the news and he was ever so excited."

"But the Patronus Charm is not experimental," Harry said, still frowning.

"Oh, well, no, however, the Committee has been working to find new ways to combat Dementors.  You know how difficult the charm is even for fully qualified wizards to master.  This news will at least help others to become proficient in the casting of the charm."

"But it won't help them prepare to fend off a Dementor," Harry said firmly.  "I don't like that everyone is getting excited because they suddenly have a Patronus.  Professor, you ought to know that the most difficult part of fending off a Dementor is regaining control of your mind and thoughts so that you _can_ cast the charm to drive them away!"

Professor Flitwick looked a little deflated at this but quickly recovered and said, "Of course, of course, Harry.  But nonetheless, it is an advance in the understanding of the charm."  Harry couldn't argue with this and nodded.  "So, what I'm asking is, might I convince you to draft a dissertation on your discovery so that you might submit it to the Journal of Enchantments and Charms?"

"What's that?" Harry asked, confused and wary of more work.  

"Oh, it's an academic publication, like the Journal of Alchemy or of Runic Sorcery.  It's the forum for presentation of professional research and discovery.  It's the most immediate way to publish a discovery for international consideration."  Flitwick was beaming now.  "Oh it is rare, Mister Potter, for one as young as yourself to merit a discovery worthy of publication, however, I do believe this qualifies and is also newsworthy in our current situation.  I've published several times myself and would be very honoured to help.  The format for submission can be tricky indeed."

"Oh…er…"  More work was the last thing Harry felt he needed, however he couldn't argue that it was important for people to be as prepared as possible for whatever forces of terrorizing, Voldemort had to wield.  "I guess that would be fine."  How hard could it be to sum up his thoughts on the charm?

Of course, a week later, Harry was deeply regretting this blasted decision.  He was now on the seventh rewrite of his submission and ready to hex Professor Flitwick if he had but one more suggestion or rule to the formatting of the dratted thing.  

"Harry, are you sure you don't want me to help?" Hermione asked as she watched Harry set fire to yet another crumpled parchment.   She'd been offering her assistance ever since she'd gasped and squealed when Harry told her about Professor Flitwick's proposition.  According to Hermione, Flitwick was a very respected Master of Charms and author of several major discoveries and refinements on spellwork.  She urged Harry to follow any advice he might offer as he would surely know best.  

"No, it's just this last part here," Harry said.  "I've to write an abstract now of the whole bit I already wrote."  Frankly, a summary of a paper already including a summary sounded a bit mental to Harry.

"Oh, abstracts are very important, Harry," Hermione said.  "It's the first thing one reads when perusing a journal.  It lets one read a brief summary of the work so they know whether they want to read the complete piece."  

"Isn't that what the title is for?" Harry asked, annoyed by the whole thing by now.  

"Oh no," Hermione said, shaking her head.  "It also let's one who is about to read the whole piece know where the conclusion is heading.  It's not supposed to be a mystery novel."

"It's a novel all right," Harry mumbled.  

The Common Room's portrait hole then opened and, with much stomping and glaring, Zoe Sorensen marched in.  Her usually neat brown pigtails were now striped orange and yellow as she marched across the room to her dormitory stairs, glaring at every snicker she heard.

Ginny, who had followed her in, was grinning ear-to-ear and collapsed in giggles at Harry and Hermione's table.  

"Dare I even ask?" Hermione said as they watched Ginny gasp for breath. 

Grinning, Ginny said, "Oh, it was brilliant!  We were down in the Potions lab repeating the Wit Sharpening Potion that we both messed up on today and you should have seen it!  Viktor had already checked ours and said they were passing and then he told me how to alter Zoe's so it would do that to her hair!  We each drank some of our own potion then and she ended up with that!  Isn't that brilliant?"

Harry had to laugh although it was also quite unfair, he thought.  "You guys get a professor who tells you how to turn a potion into a prank and we still get stuck with Snape," he said scowling and laughing.  "That is so unfair!"

"Hmm, I suppose it is harmless," Hermione said with an odd smile that was a cross between both a frown and amusement.  "He lets you all call him Viktor?"

"What do you call him?" Ginny asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Well, that's different," Hermione said quickly.  "I'm not his student."

"Not exactly what I meant," Ginny mumbled.  "Yeah, he's very relaxed in class.  Almost everyone calls him Viktor.  And why not?  He's not that much older than us!  At least he's young enough to remember how difficult it is to make a potion perfectly the very first time.  Why do you think he lets us come down in the evenings to practice and get them right?"  Ginny suddenly leaned across the table and her eyes got bright.  "Oh and guess what!?"

"What?" said Harry reflexively, almost wary.

Ginny scanned about and then, in a low voice, said, "I saw Ron down there tonight.  You'll never guess what he's doing."

The wary feeling suddenly turned into dread and fear as Harry felt Hermione look at him and then back to Ginny.  

"Aren't you going to guess?" Ginny asked, smiling mischievously.  It did little to ease Harry's dread.  

Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry and Hermione's twin looks of resolved wariness.  "He was brewing potions," she said with an air of exasperation.  "He looked like he wanted to bolt when he saw Zoe and I arrive, but, as he was in the middle of brewing something while Viktor was talking to him, he very well couldn't run off.  He was still there when we left."

"What was he doing brewing potions?" Harry asked, incredulous.

"That's what I asked him," Ginny said, sitting back. "He said there was more than one way to prepare for a NEWT."

Harry felt relief wash over him.  He turned to see his own smile reflected on Hermione's face.  

"Did you two know about this?" Ginny asked, watching their reactions.  

"No," Harry said, turning back to her and still smiling softly.

"I told Viktor how upset we were when Ron dropped Potions," Hermione said thoughtfully.  "I would never have asked him to take the time to tutor Ron but he must have offered."

Ron hadn't given up on his dream of being an Auror.  The thought made Harry smile not only with happiness for his friend but in relief that the untimely revelation of the news of he and Hermione being a couple did not cause Ron's dream to be lost after all.  

"Well, I suppose," Ginny said.  "I know Bill had to do a year of independent study on Runes to take that NEWT.  He said he knew he needed it to apply for a curse-breaker position with Gringotts but he'd dropped it after his fifth year.  Mum was on the twins every time she saw them this summer to try and take at least a few NEWTs."

"You mean I could drop our awful two hour sessions with Snape and still take the NEWT and all?" Harry said, hope building alongside frustration that he wasted so much time in class with the greasy git.

Hermione gave him a stern look.  "You could drop the class if you were determined to study and prepare on your own."

"I could work with Ron!" he said, already planning to wipe off the twice-weekly class from his timetable.

"You two would be a disaster together," Hermione said, shaking her head.  "You're in the middle of a project with your group in the class now and they are counting on you!  You can't drop a class now—it would go on your transcript!"

"But—"

"You want to give Professor Snape the satisfaction of seeing you flee his class?" Hermione asked with a pointed look.

"It wouldn't be fleeing," Harry grumbled.

"He'd believe you were too cowardly to last through his class," Hermione said knowingly.  "He would be ever so pleased."

"I am not a coward!" Harry said, drawing a few looks from other Gryffindors in the Common Room.  He looked shrewdly at Hermione and lowered his voice as he said, "Stop trying to manipulate me.  I get enough of that from Dumbledore."

"I'm not trying to manipulate you," Hermione said, hurt.  Harry watched her look at him with penitence and she explained, "Harry, you two would never work.  You'd both corrupt the other with ideas of things you'd each rather do than study.  Besides, part of our class is working together with people from other Houses.  You're the last person who should be seen dropping it to work on his own."

Harry knew she was right.  It was just that despite his elation at earning the prerequisite Outstanding mark on his Potions OWL, it had still been a let down to realize he would be enduring two more Snape-filled years of the class.  That Ron had found a way around this was enough to make Harry jealous.  

"Besides," Hermione went on, "you earned the right to be in the class proper and it would be much more work to go it alone without a class for formal instruction."  She held up her hand, "Even if Viktor is helping Ron, he didn't take our type of NEWT to be qualified in Potions.  He can't possibly prepare anyone as well as Professor Snape who's been teaching for 15 years could."

"Um, hey listen," Ginny said, obviously hoping he and Hermione would drop their argument.  "It rather seemed Ron was embarrassed that we saw him down there.  Maybe neither of you should say anything about it, you know?  If he wants you to know, he'd tell you about it."

"You're probably right, Ginny," said Hermione.  She nudged Harry who nodded moodily.

"Good," said Ginny, obviously relieved.  "Oh, and Harry?  I have, er, well, I should have what you asked for ready for you soon."  Harry's face showed bewilderment and she mumbled as she said, "You know—about my first year?"

"Oh," Harry said.  He had indeed asked her weeks ago if she would be willing to share her recollections of her experiences with Tom Riddle's diary.  Ginny had said she'd written almost an entire journal full of the experience during her third year to help her cope with the residual fears and guilt she felt about the incident.  The fact that she wrote them in a diary of her own was an ironic statement all in itself.  Harry had explained that it was a suggestion from Professor Dumbledore that he better try to understand the motives that influenced young Tom Riddle.  Ginny had said her journal was more of her own experience and not so much about what Tom Riddle had said and been.  She had agreed to go over her diary and recall her experiences with him and then record them for Harry.  

Harry watched Ginny now, her brilliantly red hair a contrast to her pale and now grim face.  Her jaw set itself determinedly and she looked up to meet his eyes.  "It's…it's been hard.  It will be hard for you to read.  I almost feel sorry for him sometimes—he was…I don't know.  It was all probably an act to get a silly girl to trust him and when I think of that it makes me furious." Her dark brown eyes glinted with a pained memory and Harry regretted even asking her to think on what had to have been the worst experience of her life.  She looked down and Hermione reached out a hand to cover one of hers.  Ginny looked up for a moment and gave a tight smile to her.  "Thanks," she whispered.  She looked to Harry then.  "It's just he acted in ways and said a lot of things that made me feel sympathetic to him and like he was a friend.    I know it was part of the curse that was that diary but you asked for details about him."

"I understand," Harry said.  "I used the diary once, too, remember?"  

Ginny looked startled to be reminded on this but nodded shakily and said, "Oh, right."  She gave a wry smile and said, "Merlin, I was so terrified you'd find out I had that stupid crush on you when I saw you had the book."  Harry could only quirk up a lopsided grin at this as he fought back a flush that made both Hermione and Ginny grin at him.  

Throughout the rest of the week, Harry was as busy as he had ever been.  He'd sent Hedwig off with his finished journal article to the publishing office but was now holding quidditch practices as often as the team could meet.  

Practices now had a routine that mirrored the workouts of Oliver Wood.  There were drills designed to hone flying skills and drills designed to help them work together as a team.  The drills, a long standing favorite of Wood in the early season, were helping everyone to improve their fundamental skills, which was something almost everyone needed.  As captain the previous year, Angelina had skipped over many of the drills in practice because in the beginning, only Ron had been new and she personally, had loathed the drills.  Now, the drills were solidifying the cohesiveness necessary between both the Chasers and the Beaters.  

After a particularly lively practice one evening, Harry went back out to the pitch to fetch his Seeker gloves that he'd misplaced, only to see Katie and Ron still flying.  Harry hung back in the deepening shadows of a spectator box and watched.

Katie had one of the old practice Quaffles and began hurling it back and forth with Ron as they flew in circles.  It appeared, at first, that they were just playing catch, but as they tossed it back and forth, they actually led the other to move in a circle.  Harry recognized the drill as one Oliver had done with the Chasers a few times back in Harry's first and second years.  In the fading light, Harry then spied his leather gloves across the pitch and, not wanting to disturb Ron and Katie, summoned them silently before retreating back towards the castle.  

Along the path from the pitch to the castle, a shuffling noise in the shrubbery made Harry freeze and then he head a familiar drawling voice:  "I know you were behind it Bulstrode.  You've been looking for a way to get me off the team since you stole my spot as captain!"  

There was some more shuffling before Millicent Bulstrode's voice ground out, "Don't kid yourself, Malfoy.  Professor said he was _glad_ he could offer the captainship to someone who had earned it!"  Another shuffling sound and then a grunt and a pained groan followed.  "Get your meaty hands off me, Crabbe!" she said.  "Why don't you think for yourself for once, Vincent?  You could get called to leave here any day now and you wouldn't have Draco here to tell you what to do—ever think of that?  And you—keep your damn mouth shut!"

A snort came and Harry almost wondered how a snort could have such a distinctive drawl to it.

"You think it's funny?  Even Potter's worked out that you're not the one in charge anymore!  You act like a fool!"  

The snort came again but was decidedly weaker this time.

"Money will only get you so far, you know," she said warningly.

"Father will be out in no time," said Malfoy's arrogant voice.  "Why do you think Goyle got called forth?  My aunt says it's a way to find Father.  And as for Potter, he's not worked out _anything_!"

"I'm hungry," came a deep whiney voice that had to be Crabbe.  

"Shut it!" Malfoy said.  There was a short shuffling sound and then Harry had to strain (he cursed himself for not pulling out an Extendable Ear already) to hear Malfoy whisper heatedly, "I'll be showing up for the next practice, Bulstrode, and you best be sure that other twat doesn't! Disobey me and you'll hear from someone you'll wish you'd never met!"

The shuffling then picked up and several twigs cracked as the noise neared where Harry was crouched.  Panicking, Harry looked about for a place top hide and cursed the fact he was wearing red quidditch robes.  Quickly, he thwacked himself on the head with his wand and hoped the Disillusionment Charm worked.  The trickling feeling of ice water running down his body seemed to mean it did and the fact that he only saw himself as a dark mixture of twigs and leaves confirmed it.  Not a moment later, the quick steps of Draco Malfoy bustled past, followed by the hulking form of Crabbe.  Harry watched them go as Malfoy brushed off the front of his robes haughtily.  

Harry watched them head towards the castle and then turned to see Millicent Bulstrode, looking rumpled and surly, emerge from the shrubbery and stalk off down the path to the pitch.  Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he gave her one last look before turning back towards the castle himself.  It was only when he reached the seventh floor and a trio of first years almost walked straight through him that he realized he ought to take off the Disillusionment Charm.  

Harry sat back and waited patiently for the members of the DA to filter into the room.  He sat upon a table with his legs dangling down off the floor, beside a large trunk.  He had activated their galleons even though it was the normal time and day for them to meet.  He hoped they would all take it to mean they should all show up.  The meetings had become laid back and not everyone showed up to every meeting.  Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff Houses had members who were also holding tutoring sessions for their own housemates.  Gryffindor, in Colin and Dennis Creevey, also had regular lectures and practice sessions for their younger house members.  (Although, Ron often laughed when they saw them and claimed it was merely Colin's Harry Potter fan club coming out into the open.)

"Hey, Harry," Ernie Macmillan said as he entered with an entourage of Hufflepuffs.  "You forget what day it is?  We always meet now."

Harry just smiled and swung his legs as he motioned them in.  

"Hello, Harry," Luna said, leading her gaggle of first year Ravenclaws and Neville into the room.  "What's in the trunk?" she asked as she seated herself on the floor, looking up, unblinkingly at Harry.

"You'll see," he said.  "Part of our new routine."  Harry waited patiently, swinging his legs to and fro, as members of the DA wandered in, cast questioning glances around and then seated themselves.  Even Hermione was furrowing her brow at him, as he had not told her of his plans.  

"I think we're all here," Harry said as he peered around the room.  "I'm ready to begin either way."  He smiled as he slid off the table and stood before them.  He gave the trunk beside him a kick and it shuddered violently, making Luna's first years cling to each other fearfully.  "I believe it's time for us to move on.  In here," he gestured to the trunk, "is what will be our Dementor."  Faces around the room paled and there was more than one audible gasp.  "It's a Boggart but I've worked for several weeks to learn the trick to control it and force its shape to be a Dementor.  If you've got your Patronus by now, then it's time you moved on to learn to cast it in the presence of a Dementor.  Anyone else can have a go with it, too, if they so wish."

Harry paced a small circle and then went on to say, "We'll go one or two at a time versus the Dementor.  Meanwhile…I think I've taught you the basic and most common spells of Defense.  But I think it's now time to put these to practice in a more practical way."  Harry stopped his pacing and stood facing his fellow students assembled before him.  "Next, we duel.  One on one to begin and duel until one is disarmed.  We'll get used to parrying with an opponent and keep rotating about.  You'll learn to adapt to the strengths of your opponent and you'll learn your own strengths and weaknesses.  Eventually, we'll pair up and duel two on two and up from there.  We've got room in here for about a half dozen pairs to duel at once and there's plenty to be learned from watching.  While the duels go on, anyone who wants a go at the Dementor can come over here by me.  Any questions?"

Padma Patil's hand shot into the air and she asked, "Aren't we going to learn any more new spells?"

Harry nodded once.  "I reckon you will.  If a spell you've never heard before is levelled at you, you'll learn it right quick.  Any other questions?"  Several people were already murmuring, eager to get started.  Some were looking very uneasy and more than a little apprehensive about the task of having to duel and possibly then face down a Dementor.  "Okay, we'll start the duels with the oldest members first.  The two oldest will face off and so on down the line.  Everyone pair up now so you're ready to take your turn."

The few seventh years in the DA immediately sought each other out and started to work out who was older than whom.  Hermione, at this time, slipped through the crowd and cornered Harry.  "Harry, I want to go against the Dementor," she said with a challenging look in her eyes.  

"Don't you want to duel?"

Hermione drew her wand and smoothed down the front of her robes. "You're not duelling, are you?" she asked with a look that said she clearly knew he wasn't.  "I want to practice against a Dementor."

Harry crossed his arms and leaned back against the table.  "You think I should go through and duel everyone, just like everyone else?" he asked.

Hermione looked like she hadn't been expecting this, as her question had merely been rhetorical.  "Well, I didn't mean… If you want--do you want to?"  Harry found her temporarily flustered state to be amusing, but she recovered quickly.  "No, I think you--we--should let everyone get started against an equally skilled opponent.  That is why you told everyone to pair up by age, isn't it?  But I expect you'll want to jump in there sooner or later if I know you.  I know I will, but, oh, I'd rather let them go at it for now.  I thought you said you wanted to have people facing off against the Dementor while the duels were ongoing?"

Harry had to smile; Hermione was just too adorable when she got flustered.  Or maybe it was whenever she got excited?  Determined?  Whatever--he'd let her finger paint across the floor if it was truly what she wanted.  "You want to have a go at the Boggart-turned-Dementor?"  She nodded eagerly.  _Yup, eager is a good look on her, too_, he thought.  "As you wish!"

Harry levitated the trunk back into the corner of the room. The first round of duelling pairs was already getting started.  

"Okay," he said as he face the trunk to open towards Hermione.  "I'm going to unlock the trunk and from it, a Dementor will rise.  It will feel just like a real Dementor to you.  Wait to feel it before trying to cast your Patronus.  Got it?"  Hermione nodded resolutely and held up her wand, ready to fight.  

Harry waved his wand to unlock the trunk and then trained his wand upon the Boggart as it rose from the trunk in the form of a Dementor. It was Harry's mind that was giving the Boggart its form.  He focused upon the details of a Dementor: its tall black gliding body, its slow rattling breaths, its ability to incite bone-chilling cold and its ability to drown its prey--Hermione--in memories of her deepest despair and sorrow. 

"_Ex…expecto_…," Hermione's voice was weak as he heard her attempting to cast the charm.  Like a real Dementor, the Boggart began to advance slowly towards Hermione, unrelenting in its attack.  "_Expect…o_…"  Harry could barely hear her voice it was so weak and frail.  He flicked his wand and the Dementor turned into a hovering Snitch with a _crack_.  

"Are you all right?" he asked Hermione, his wand still controlling the Boggart Snitch.  

She nodded weakly and he watched her eyes regain their focus.  "Wow, you were right.  It's…wow."  Hermione swallowed, still shivering, and readied her wand again.  "I'm ready."

Harry shook his head and drew out a bar of Honeydukes finest from his pocket.  He tossed it to her and said, "Take this and break off a piece.  One piece before you go at it again."  He waited before she broke off a chunk of the chocolate.  As she ate, he could see the color return to her cheeks and she stopped shivering.  "Feel better?"  

Hermione smiled and nodded and again readied her wand.  "Ready."  

She didn't fare any better the second, third or fourth time.  "Eat the rest of the chocolate," Harry instructed as he Banished the Boggart back into the trunk and then locked it.  "That's all I'm letting you do today."  Hermione looked like she wanted to argue, but her shivering as she bite off a chuck of chocolate made Harry laugh and shake his head.  "Forget it, you only get more and more drained if you face it too often like that.  Now you know what to expect for next time."  He wrapped an arm around her and ran his hand along her arm to warm her up.  "At least you weren't passing out like I was."  

They then turned and watched the rest of the DA moving through their duelling pairs.  Most not duelling were watching the one who were, but some had obviously been watching Hermione's failed attempts at fending off a Dementor and were now eyeing the trunk with the Boggart warily.  

"I have a feeling you may be my only volunteer today," he said to Hermione.  

"I see our army is indeed on the road to becoming a formidable one."  

Sparks of red and gold shot forth from Harry's wand and he gasped for air at the sudden appearance of Professor Dumbledore in the now vacant Room of Requirement.  "Good lord!" he breathed, clutching his chest. 

Dumbledore merely twinkled.  "They respect you immensely, Harry.  They trust you and see you as their leader.  They'd follow you anywhere."  Dumbledore's deep blue eyes were intense now and no longer twinkling so much as they were simply burning.  "If I were to show myself at one of your meetings, I wouldn't garner half the respect as you, Harry.  No--it's true.  They'd be in awe of me, yes, but not necessarily respect me.  It's you they know well enough to respect."  

Harry didn't know what he could possibly say to this and so, said nothing.  "Perhaps the name 'Dumbledore's Army' is not as apt as it should be?" Dumbledore asked, the twinkling back now.  He winked and said cheerily, "I think the name 'Potter's Army' has a fine ring to it."

"They're not my army," Harry quickly said.  "They are not an army at all.  The name was a joke when we thought it up.  They're learning to defend themselves, not fight as an army."  The notion that he'd have an army, no matter how small, at his command made his cheeks flush red and embarrassment flare in his stomach.  

"You do not think they would fight for you?" Dumbledore asked, peering over the top of his glasses.  

"I'd never ask it of them," Harry said quietly.  How could he?  He was a walking disaster much of the time--look what happened to those who had followed him to the Ministry last year.  "The point has always been to enable them to defend themselves."

Dumbledore was still looking at Harry over his glasses and smiled now, beaming, and the pride in his gaze was unmistakeable.  "And that, Harry, is why they _would_ fight for you.  The gift of skills you give them inspires loyalty, Harry.  Loyalty to you."


	34. Chapter 37 A Victory All Around

Chapter 37. A Victory All Around 

After his conversation with Dumbledore, Harry took the long route back to the Common Room thanks to two different staircases that decided to change, as he was in mid-climb.  It was an hour past curfew when he finally entered through the portrait hole.  He saw Hermione catch his eye and then threw a significant look at the time upon the grandfather clock.  Harry just shrugged and listlessly collapsed into the armchair near the fire beside her.  

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, watching him closely.

"Nothing," Harry said as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes.  "Talked with Dumbledore after everyone left."

"And?" Hermione prompted.

Harry cracked his eyes open and leaned forward, running a hand through his hair.  Harry pulled a face recalling his conversation and then said, "Well, after he finally got around to the point, he said the Ministry made its submission to the Council this evening."  Hermione quickly shut her book, shoved it to the side and slipped down onto the floor in front of Harry, leaning forward to hear more.  "The Council meets tomorrow but Dumbledore said that a number of foreign seats and are prepared to offer up additional financial aid to us.  He said they've been talking and they think Fudge is just too stubborn to admit he needs the aid.  It should be more than enough and get Fudge to back off on the proposals to amend that original Gringotts Charter."

"Well, that's good news," Hermione said with a sigh of relief.  

"What are you talking about Gringotts for?" came Ron's voice from behind Harry's chair.   Both Harry and Hermione froze.  Ron walked around the chair and looked down at them with his eyes narrowed suspiciously.  "What do you two know about Fudge's dealings with Gringotts?"  His eyes snapped open wide and then he said, "You overheard stuff about the Order!"

"Shhh!" both Harry and Hermione hissed as Harry grabbed on to Ron's arm and dragged him to the floor beside them.  

"That's a _secret_ Order, remember?" Harry chided.

"But you _did_ over hear something," Ron said eagerly.  "Didn't you?  Who'd you overhear?  Dumbledore?  Bill?   Was Bill here?  I know Dad said they might have to come to Hogwarts for some meetings this year."  

Harry closed his eyes, trying to think of something to tell Ron when Hermione made up the story for him, saying, "It's an assignment Harry's doing for his study under Dumbledore.  He's to research and understand Wizard and Non-Wizard relations and he's working on the Goblins right now.  It's been all over the news for months now that Fudge has been scrambling for more funds."

"Oh," said Ron as his face fell.  "It's some homework thing?"  He looked like he might just forget ever hearing about it on that basis alone but then nodded once and asked, "So what's the story?  Fudge needs money now that big daddy Lucius Malfoy is locked away and can't drop him gold crumbs?"

"Well, actually yes," Hermione said slowly.  "That's been in the news, too.  Malfoy's practices as Finance Authority Official were rumored to have been suspect at best, although evidence is still forthcoming.  They've hired a new official to come in and audit his records—that's Planesse."

Ron scoffed, "Well of course Malfoy was crooked!  It's not natural to be that filthy rich now, is it?"  Ron shook his head as if it were obvious and said, "I bet half the Malfoy's gold came from some crooked deal or another.  He's probably even been robbing the Ministry blind and skiving off it ever since he started to work there.  You know he'd have done it if he could get away with it."

Hermione frowned and thoughtfully chewed on her lower lip before slowly saying, "Well, that's about what the Prophet has alluded to but the investigations on Malfoy's conduct have become second page news as time's gone by.  The Press and public opinion have been criticizing Fudge more than anyone really.  I suppose no one thinks it's very satisfying to accuse someone who's already been caught, though.  Even now when Malfoy's mentioned, it's to make Fudge look bad for having had a Death Eater so high up in the Ministry."  Hermione trailed off, still frowning thoughtfully.

Although Ron seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with her, he was still affording Hermione a fair amount of respect, something that had been rare this year and Harry watched their conversation with interest and some hope.  Ron looked up then at Harry and asked, "So what does this have to do with Gringotts?"

Harry exchanged a brief glance with Hermione and then said, "Well, you see, the thing is, er…"  Harry wasn't sure what to say and how to excuse how he knew what he did know.  His mind was working furiously as to what to say.

"Did you already tell _her?" Ron asked with a dark look at Hermione.  The accusation was clear in his meaning that he expected to hear an excuse why he couldn't be told of the things Hermione could.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        _

"No, that's not it at all," Harry said quickly.  "Look, Dumbledore just happens to get chatty with me and told me some stuff that hasn't been made exactly public yet.  I'm probably not supposed to tell anyone, is all."  At Ron's growing hard look, Harry quickly added, "But I don't reckon it makes a difference to tell you.  It's not big really, just Fudge being Fudge. You see he's been trying to get Gringotts to let him claim the contents of the vaults of prisoners serving life sentences.  It's noteworthy in the grand scheme of Goblin history and the original charter that granted them Gringotts.  I've been following it to, er, study their historical interactions with Wizards."  Harry gave a small nod to Hermione who was looking very pensive.  "As Dumbledore is back on the Wizards Council, he was able to tell me that they'll be meeting tomorrow to go over a proposal from Fudge that would amend the charter to allow him access if it was ratified.  Dumbledore's against it though.  He doesn't think it will happen."  

"Why not?  It sounds like a great idea to me!" Ron said so loudly Harry had to shush him again.  More quietly, he said, "Harry—they're _Death Eaters_ we're talking about!  Why should they be allowed to keep their vaults of gold so they can use it while they're out on the run as escapees?"

"They're not out on the run, Ron," Hermione corrected.  "Most families only have one vault.  You'd be advocating stripping an entire family of all their savings and wealth because of one member's decision."  

"But if it's Malfoy," Ron started to protest.

"Then Draco—and his mother—are still innocent until proven guilty," Hermione stated firmly.  "Frankly, it's bad enough the ones who were captured last year were sent away with trials.  I'd be more inclined to care if we didn't see them for ourselves trying to kill us, but that doesn't mean it was right in principle."  

Ron stared at her incredulously.  "You've got to be kidding me.  Who needs a trial to convict a Death Eater?!"

"Sirius didn't get a trial and he had to spend twelve years in Azkaban because of it," Harry said evenly.  

Ron looked duly castigated and more than a little uncomfortable at the topic of Sirius.  Even after all this time, Sirius' death had never really been a topic of discussion between Ron and Harry.   Harry figured Ron was too afraid the topic might cause Harry to get emotional or something.  

Hermione reached a hand up and rested it on Harry's knee as she said, "It's rather ironic that we're probably the only ones who would raise a protest to sending away those Death Eaters without a trial but we're also the ones who witnessed their guilt first hand."  

Harry gave her a wry smile and nodded appreciatively at the irony.  Ron cleared his throat and, clearly trying to change the subject, said, "I bet the Order's real busy lately since all the attacks.  I wish I knew what they were doing to try and stop them, don't you?"

Reflexively, Harry said, "It's not the Order's job to stop every attack and protect everyone."  He'd had to keep reminding himself this over and over numerous times since the attacks on mixed-blood families had begun.  Hermione's hand then gave his knee a tight squeeze, making him wince.  "What—er, what I mean is," Harry spoke in a measured voice, thinking quickly.  "Now that the Ministry acknowledges Voldemort's back, the Order has fewer burdens."  Ron was still frowning, confused and about to ask a question so Harry added, "The Ministry protects the people.  The Ministry has to concern itself with the greater good of the populace and with defending against dark wizard attacks."  

Dumbledore, Moody and Remus had each repeated this to Harry more than once whenever Harry had started to look overwhelmed about the lives that were now routinely being lost pointlessly every week.  _The Order's dedicated to enable you, Harry, to do what you need to do_, they'd say.  _Our mission must remain focused upon the defeat of the Dark Lord, was what Dumbledore was fond of saying.   Harry had taken to reminding himself of this whenever his thoughts wandered to those who had lost a loved one.  Sometimes his voice to remind himself was mocking of the words of his advisors but most often it was bitter about the truth of reality and resentful of the pressure that truth put upon him.  _

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by Ron speaking.  "Then why does the Order have us doing the DA and teaching defense if that's the Ministry's job?"  Ron's forehead was creased in contemplation.  "What is the Order doing if not fighting You-Know-Who?"

Harry grasped Hermione's hand upon his knee in silent communication that he wanted to answer these questions himself.   "Well, the Order is meant to help defeat Voldemort," Harry started.  At Ron's shiver and continued furrowed brow, he went on.  "Defeating Voldemort and protecting the general populace is not the same thing."

Hermione piped in, saying, "That's one of the reasons the Order had such a hard time of it last year trying to do both."

Harry nodded and squeezed her hand again.  "Right and the DA is just a way to help make up for all the rotten Defense instructors we've had.  The Ministry can't do everything and the more everyone can defend themselves at a basic level at least, then the better."  

Harry watched Ron's reaction closely and felt a surge of resentment towards Mrs. Weasley for making him promise to not tell Ron the truth about his and Hermione's involvement in the Order.  It wasn't fair he had to keep things from one of his best friends.   

"I guess I never thought about it like that," Ron said.  Ron was chewing on his thumbnail now and giving Harry the distinct feeling he had a question he wanted to ask but didn't think he should.

"What?" Harry asked.

Ron's gaze was diverted away and his hand dropped to his lap.  "Oh, nothing."  He then made a show of looking around at the near empty Common Room, there were only a few oblivious students working diligently in the darker corners of the room, and said, "I think I'm going to head to bed."  

Harry grinned as Ron stood up and yawned tiredly.  "Yeah, when's your first class tomorrow?  Sometime after noon isn't it?"

Snapping his mouth shut after his yawn, Ron grinned back and retorted, "You're just jealous."

Harry could only nod and laugh haltingly as a yawn took him too by surprise.  

Hermione watched Ron leave up the stairs to the boys' dormitory and then climbed up to sit in Harry's lap. She laid her head upon his shoulder and sighed contentedly as his arms wrapped around her waist, holding her to him.  After a few moments Hermione asked, "Is there more?"   Harry frowned and nodded once against her head and, not for the first time, he wished they could just run away from the world and leave it all behind.  "And?" Hermione prompted, her hand curling around the collar of his robes.

"Oh, er," Harry rubbed her back with one hand as he spoke softly, "Dumbledore said that more nations from the Council seem, er, amenable was the word he used, to giving our Ministry aid because it seems that while we've been hit with an rising number of attacks and dark activity, other nations are enjoying a significant decrease in dark activity in their homelands.  It looks like Voldemort's been recruiting all across Europe and for all we know, he might have been doing this all of last year."  He paused here and his arms tightened unconsciously, holding Hermione tighter to him.  "Dumbledore said it's why so many in the Council are willing to give us more aid now; ours is the only nation at war."

Hermione lifted her head up and leaned their foreheads together, looking into Harry's eyes.   Somehow, just looking into her eyes, flickering with the light of the fire, made Harry forget about any war, forget he was supposed to be worried about this and he completely forget he was the one supposed to save the world.  For all he was concerned at this moment, the world began and ended all within the circle of his arms.

The next morning at breakfast Harry received a very haggard looking unfamiliar owl that stuck out her leg pleadingly to be rid of her delivery and then took several long gulps of water from a silver pitcher.  

"Who's that from?" Hermione inquired, looking up and eyeing the water pitcher with some distaste.  

"Dunno."  Harry unrolled the note and smiled as he recognized the untidy scrawl of Hagrid.  

_Harry,_

_On schedule to hit land in two days.  Grawpy is enjoying the trip.  Will send a note in the kettle when we get there.  Weather's horribly cold.  Good luck to Gryffindor in your first Quidditch match!_

_Hagrid_

"Oh, you might already have cauldron post depending on when he sent this.  Did you check it this morning?" Hermione asked.  

Harry shook his head.  "No, most everyone just sends it to Dumbledore.  I'll have to check later."  Harry was still smiling sadly.  He'd thought more than once he would have been comforted to have gotten away for tea and inedible rock cakes with Hagrid a few times since Halloween.  

"Oh, I do hope they have good luck with their visit," Hermione said, worrying the nib of her quill.  

Harry gave her a look and said, "I just hope he doesn't find Norbert and bring him back."  

The rest of the day, Harry kept wondering how Dumbledore's meeting with the International Wizards Council was going and if Fudge had gotten enough aid to meet the Ministry's needs.  In Healing, Firenze had everyone hexing small cuts onto the back of each other's hands and then trying to heal them.  

"Once you have mastered the way with your wand, set it aside.  Use your hands to feel the cursing magic on the wound.  True Healing is not sorcery but a passive magic," Firenze lectured tonelessly as he stepped between them all spread out around the forested classroom.  

"Ow! Harry, you're not doing it right!" Hermione said, jerking her hand back and cradling it against her.  

"Sorry," he muttered, watching her heal the cut herself.  "Here, do mine again."  He offered her his hand and she cast the hex, creating a shallow laceration on it and then watched her lightly run her wand tip down the cut to seal it back up.  He was having no problem healing a cut on his own hand but seemed to be having a problem getting the trick of healing hers. 

Lavender cried out sharply as her partner, Katie Bell, hexed her hand.  "Dammit!  Why can't we use someone serving a detention to hex and heal instead of having to do this to ourselves?" she said angrily shaking her stinging hand.  Harry snickered at her and Katie's apologetic look as Hermione took his hand to practice again.  

Dean, working with Neville, laughed at this and said, "Yeah, Filch would love that.  He could whip the poor students and then we could use them for healing practice."

Harry laughed again and then felt Hermione jerk his hand towards her as she said, "What happened?  Why didn't it work?"  Hermione was glaring at the cut still on his hand as if it were openly mocking her.  "Let me try it again."

But before she could touch her wand to Harry's hand, Firenze stepped behind her and said, "Let us see him heal himself."  She let Harry's hand drop back to his lap and Harry pointed his wand at the cut and ran it along the wound, sealing it perfectly.  

Firenze observed without comment and then said, "Let me now try."  Harry cast the hex on himself and held out his hand to Firenze who then said, "I want you to close your eyes as I heal your hand."  Harry obliged and closed his eyes.  He then heard Firenze say, "I'm feeling your wound now and healing it with my magic.  Your wound is now healed.  Open your eyes."

Harry blinked and pulled his hand down to look at it.  Hermione looked too and, seeing his perfectly healed hand, scowled up at Firenze and then at Harry.  "But that's not how you showed us earlier," she said to Firenze.  "You never even touched him!"

"I did not heal him," Firenze said simply.  "Use a different partner.  You," he said to Harry, "are healing yourself.  Move on to healing others and try it without your wand."  

Hermione looked exasperatedly at Harry, probably because she had wasted time believing she was mastering the magic and they switched with Katie and Lavender.  Lavender jumped at the chance to pair with Harry and shoved her hand at him, saying, "Here, you can try to heal me." 

Healing at times had an almost mystical air to it where there were some things you either got or you didn't.  It was almost like Divination in that regard but with much more of a practical application.  It was anyone's call who would just naturally have what talent although the rest of them would eventually be able to learn most of the skills with practice.  It wasn't about power, though, or even sheer will of focus that was required in this class.  It was a much more subtle magic and almost like a blending or merging or your own body's inherent magic with that of the one you were healing.  

 Harry had some success trying to hold his hands on either side of Lavender's and healed her partially twice.  She was more than willingly to let him keep trying and seemed to like the fact that since he had to concentrate for so long, she didn't have to get hexed as often.  She also seemed to just like the fact she got to work closely with Harry because she seemed very disappointed when the bell rang to end their class.  

"Did you do alright working with Katie?" Harry asked, joining Hermione as they stood to leave.  

"Oh, yes.  It took me a few times to go over it but yes.  I should have known it seemed too easy with you."  They walked out of the lush and balmy first floor room and back into the familiar drafty stone corridors, heading to the Great Hall for lunch.  "I wonder if Dumbledore's back yet," she whispered.  

"Yeah," Harry said, nodding.  "I've been wondering how it's going all morning.  He didn't say he wouldn't be back by tonight, though, so I imagine we'll find out soon enough."

But by the time the regular Friday night meeting came around, Dumbledore had still not returned.  Professor McGonagall arrived in the antechamber off the Great Hall at seven and said she had spoken with the Headmaster over the Floo.  "He said everything was going well and that he would not return until late this evening.  He did not expect many drop-ins tonight," she said as she seated herself at a large round table where Moody was already seated.  

He was studying a large parchment map as his one eye whirled around, never focusing one thing for more than a moment. He grunted a greeting to Harry and said, "You're getting lazy, boy!  I sat right in the middle of a box twice this week and watched your entire team practicing until dark.  Could have cursed you nine times over before you'd even began to fall off that broom of yours!"

"You could not!" Harry protested.  "I have a Perimeter Charm on when I fly and it's even enlarged a bit when I go outside.  I would have been able to dodge any spell as soon as it tripped the charm!"  Moody rolled his head to the right and then left, considering him.  Harry turned to McGonagall then and said, "But I already looked; I can't use that charm during a game and with good reason.  I can feel a Bludger and even the Snitch when they fly close to me. No, I couldn't even try it even on the grounds as a safety precaution--not after the incident at the last game."  

She frowned and Moody said, "We'll cover you in a game, Potter.  I've got a guard of volunteers from the Order coming to watch the game next week and be on the look out. Bones is assigning Tonks--she went back on duty last week-- and a few other Aurors to stand guard around the grounds as well."  

Harry raised his eyebrows, pausing as Hermione opened the door and entered, and said, "There wasn't a whole guard on hand at the last game.  Would have been rather handy," he muttered, thinking how much nicer it would have been if some Auror could have helped Draco Malfoy as he fell off his Nimbus.  

"The last game didn't have you flying about like a moving target, now did it?" Moody growled.  

Harry grumbled and Hermione asked, "Harry, did you tell Moody about overhearing Malfoy earlier this week?"

"What? Oh, no," he said.  He turned to Moody and said, "I mentioned it to Dumbledore last night and was going to send a note about it via cauldron to you, Remus and Snape today.  Where is Remus?"

"Full moon tonight," Hermione said.

"About Bulstrode, Crabbe and Malfoy?  Albus already told me," Moody said, waving it aside.  "That lot is up to something, but we knew that, now didn't we?  I talked to Severus about it just before and he's already got them under watch.  Not much you can do except constant vigilance!"  Moody pointed a gnarled finger at Harry as he said this.  "Now, let's go over our news this week.  We don't have the post from Albus' cauldron today but I have a preliminary list of watch names from Bones and the international cooperation what-have-you department.  They've compiled profiles of suspected dark wizards from across the continent and are preparing a select taskforce of Aurors to secure undercover contacts and try to find anyone matching these descriptions.  There've been one or two muggle witnesses to potions of at least two attacks where they mentioned the voices of the people sounded foreign.  Then again, muggles may just think Latin incantations are something foreign, can't be sure."  He looked at Harry and said, "I know you're always asking what they're doing to stop the attacks.  Albus may have more on this when he gets back."

"Thanks," Harry said.  "I got an owl from Hagrid this morning.  They're set to reach land, he said in about two days time and that he would send cauldron post when they arrived.  I checked mine before dinner and haven't got anything."  

They went around and sorted through the various reports received from Order members and Harry, yet again, got frustrated that all the doings of Voldemort's followers seemed to have no real motive or purpose besides revenge for being deemed a blood traitor in some way (which Harry really thought was not much of a reason at all).  

It was past ten at night when the door opened and Professor Dumbledore arrived at last.  "Professor Dumbledore!  How did it go?" Hermione blurted out as he was taking off his winter cloak.  

He smiled at her and said, "Good evening to you too, Miss Granger."  Hermione looked embarrassed at her outburst.  

"Oh, Albus, we're all waiting.  How did it go?" Professor McGonagall said impatiently as Dumbledore took his time to be seated, smiling at each of them.  

"Well, it was a fine day for meeting with old friends and getting much accomplished," Dumbledore said conversationally.    

"Did Minister Fudge show up at the Council himself?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore nodded and pulled a tin from his robe pocket.  "Lemon drop?" he offered around the table.  No one took one.  He popped one into his mouth and, sucking thoughtfully, said, "He did indeed.  Unfortunately for him, though, his name was somehow left off the agenda and he had to wait until the last orders of business before he could speak.  He was most displeased," Dumbledore said mildly.  "Ah, but the Council had much to say about his proposal, indeed.  It was the topic of discussion for a great many hours this past evening."

"It didn't get approved, did it?" Hermione asked.

"Oh no," Dumbledore said, smiling brightly.  "Most definitely not.  However, it seems there were a few points within the proposed amendment that many felt did hold some merit."  Harry was skeptical that anything Fudge had to say could have merit and thought both McGonagall and Moody had looks expressing similar doubts.  "Oh yes, I was myself surprised at this," Dumbledore said with amusement.  "The Council has voted to create a committee to oversee consideration to revise the Gringotts Charter.  It only means it will be considered."

"What were these points, you say that were of merit?" Moody asked.

"Ah, well, it was roundly struck down to simply deem a prisoner serving a life sentence to be forfeit of all his wealth due to the common practice of shared family wealth and such.  Also, Cornelius took some heat from some Council seats who disagree with the practice of sentencing without just trial."  Hermione sniffed at this in agreement.  "However, he brought up the point that known dark wizards might be likely to be harboring illegal dark artifacts within their possession and that a search of their properties--including their vaults--might be prudent."  

Harry could not see anything immediately wrong about this and Moody was nodding along agreeably.  He obviously believed dark wizards were likely to each possess an arsenal of evilly cursed items and heinous poisons.   "Do you think this is what Fudge was after all along?" Moody asked leaning forward.  

Dumbledore contemplated the answer and said, "No, he was far too enamored of the idea of the Ministry seizing gold and, in fact, when the Council seemed to be open to this one point, he appeared almost surprised and only seemed to embrace it as a second thought."  Dumbledore sucked thoughtfully upon the lemon drop still in his cheek and then clapped his hands and said, "Well, unless there is something most urgent…?  No?  It has indeed been a very long day for a very old man."  He turned, twinkling, to Harry and said, "And I believe Harry has an early morning practice scheduled.  Only one week until Gryffindor's first game, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes, of course, sir," Harry said.  

"You do plan to win now, don't you, Harry?" he asked, leaning forward and peering over his half moon glasses.  

Harry couldn't help a grin and said, "But of course, sir!"  

Dumbledore beamed back.  "Excellent!"  

The rest of the weekend and all of next week was consumed with Quidditch practice at any spare moment the team could pull together.  The weather kept growing colder and colder each day and as they practiced well past sundown, they'd hurry back up to the castle and defrost themselves before the fire in the Common Room so they could stop shivering.  

Fifth years, Ginny and Zoe were positively running ragged with all their extra OWL revision and homework.  Harry had given then all of Wednesday and Thursday morning off from practice so they could catch up on some sleep before the game.  Through some miracle, Ron's confidence had been steadily increasing all week as the reserve team scrimmaged them in practices and were soundly beaten each time.  

In Thursday night's DA meeting, Harry made everyone who had never before encountered a Dementor first hand take a quick turn to feel the Dementor's effects.  He had cajoled a few older members of the DA to have a go with it but not even Hermione had managed to throw off its attack.  After the meeting, Luna made Harry endure a long list of reasons she would be supporting both Ravenclaw and Gryffindor equally on Saturday.  Harry stopped listening somewhere about the time she mentioned the evolutionary equidistance in ribosomal DNA between both eagles and lions.  Harry only recalled that one because he thought DNA was a muggle thing and she then explained she had read about it in some silly muggle entertainment magazine.  Harry wondered if she had read it up side down.   

The day of the match, Harry was the first to awake in the boy's dorm.  He yawned, stretching, as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.   As he flung the covers back, was hit was a drafty blast of cold air and he quickly stepped into his slippers, hopping to keep his bare feet off the icy stone floor.   Wrapping his dressing gown around him, he stepped over to the window and peered out across the lawns to find the green grass covered in a blanket of blindingly white snow. 

After showering, changing, and shaking Ron awake, Harry went down to the Common Room to make sure all the team members made it down to breakfast together.   In the Great Hall, the wafting smells of breakfast sausages and bacon greeted Harry and team as they entered.  The far end of the Gryffindor table was always reserved for the team on game days to eat together and this day was no different.  The team was welcomed with a chorus of thumping upon the long table, whoops and whistles.  

The chatter in the Hall was high as usual for a game day and he had thought that Abby and Zoe might possibly be apprehensive about the game as it was their first but, to his surprise, neither girl seemed to be all that nervous.  

Zoe, who had her pigtails braided with sparkling ribbons of red and gold, was chatting away animatedly with Ginny.  "I told you she was charming her robes to get those curves, didn't I?  I just knew it.  Hey, you get those books checked out from the library for Potions, Gin?" 

Ginny made a face and said, "Nah, I went last night for them and all were checked out.  Figures—first real assignment we get that allows us into the Restricted Section and I don't even get a chance to cross that rotten rope."

"Well," Harry said, clearing his voice loudly at looking pointedly at Ginny and then Zoe.  "As happy as I am to see you are not overly nervous about our game today, don't forget we need to finish breakfast and get down to the pitch."  He wasn't pleased to see neither had the courtesy to hide the fact they rolled their eyes at each other at his admonishment.  "Andrew," Harry said, turning to the third year Beater who had played three games last year, "how are you doing?"

He looked a bit green in the face but was slowly putting away a piece of toast and he nodded to Harry, saying, "Oh, I'll be fine."

"Don't worry," Harry said.  "You've improved loads since last year. Abby?" Harry asked, looking across at the Angelina's younger sister.  

Her face was grim yet determined and as she looked up from her cereal, she met Harry's eyes unwaveringly as she answered, "I'm ready."

Harry nodded.  Abby and Andrew were the two youngest and he was confident they would indeed be fine once they got into the air.  He looked down the table and saw Katie sighing exasperatedly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.  She was seated beside Ron who had his head cradled in his hands as his elbows were propped upon the table.  He didn't seem to be eating; in fact, he barely seemed to be awake.  "Ron?"  He made no move and Harry saw Katie send him a dark look down the table before she returned to her breakfast.  

"Hiya Harry!" Colin and Dennis Creevey chorused as they came into the Great Hall.  Dennis was carrying an armful of parchment rolls and Colin was balancing a large, plain, brown box that was twice as wide as he was.  

"What's in the box?" Ginny asked, eyeing it warily.  

Colin and Dennis exchanged wide-mouthed grins and Colin was about to lift the lid of the box when a wand was sharply whacked upon his hand and remained upon the box top.  "Potter," McGonagall's clipped and stern voice snapped.  She eyed the box and then looked back at Harry.  Harry scrambled up from his seat and over to his Head of House.  "It seems," she said in a voice that sounded like thinly veiled exasperation, "that Misters Fred and George Weasley have decided to show up early for today's match.  This box was a gift from them.  I don't have to guess, Potter, what it is likely to all contain.   I'm holding you responsible for making sure none are set off within the castle corridors or common areas.  Mister Filch is lobbying to ban all of the Weasleys' products as it is.  I'm sure you can appreciate how that would hurt their sales."  

"Oh, er, sure.  I understand, Professor," Harry said, nodding and knowing full well that another full set of Wildfire Whizbangs whirring all about the castle would indeed send Filch off into hyperventilating rants about wishing he could have whipped them and had his way with them when he had the chance.  

"Excellent," McGonagall said.  Her stern gaze lingered and then her lips curled up ever so slightly and she said, "Now, good luck and do catch the Snitch quickly today, it's positively frigid out there."

Harry turned to Colin and Dennis, who had been listening, and said, "Did you hear that?  No wild fireworks or anything during the game.  Save it for after we win—got it?"

"Sure thing, Harry!" Colin said, saluting.  "We'll get them passed around and make sure everyone knows.  Guess what?  We searched in the library for all your game stats, Harry and we made copies so we have stuff to talk about during our commentary."  Harry's stomach sank at the reminder that Colin and Dennis Creevey were the commentators this year.  

"Yeah," Dennis said, "we thought we were too dull last game.  Didn't have much pizzazz, you know?"

"Great," Harry said, thinking he at least had his wand on him and could cast a Silencing Charm on them if it got too bad.  

As the rest of the team finished eating, Harry sent them down to the pitch to warm up.  He gestured for Katie to go on ahead and he hung back to wait for the despondent Ron to leave the table.  "Ron?" Harry asked.  "Are you going to be alright?"  Harry couldn't figure out what, besides nerves, had Ron in this state.  He had been fairly fine yesterday in practice and seemed almost to have been looking forward to the match even as of last night.  "Did something happen this morning, Ron?" Harry asked as they walked through the Entrance Hall.  

Ron was walking listlessly and said, "I'm the team's weak spot, aren't I, Harry?  You only let me on the team because I'm your friend.  I _stink_."

"What?"  Where the hell was all this suddenly coming from?

"I heard Cho this morning saying their plan is to _exploit our weakness.  I'm the weakness!" he wailed.  _

"Ron!" Harry said sternly.  "Get—a—grip."  Harry stopped, turned and grabbed for both of his shoulders to shake some sense into Ron.  "Get a grip!" he shouted, staring into Ron's lost eyes, which then snapped open.

"I'm fine, no, I'm fine," Ron said; his eyes were blinking rapidly and he looked like he'd been shocked awake.  Ron ran one hand down the other arm of his maroon and gold jumper and stepped backwards.  "I'm fine.  It's just, you know…I'm fine."

To Harry's surprise, Ron actually sounded the best he had all morning.  "You're sure?"  Ron nodded and straightened himself.  

"Okay," Harry said slowly.  "Don't worry about Ravenclaw, Ron.  They haven't a clue what our Beaters and Chaser can do yet.  Besides, I need you to help me."  They started walking again down the corridor that would lead to the side exit and towards the pitch.  "Listen, remember what we talked about and keep an eye on their Chasers' formations.  Direct the Beaters as needed.  I'll be too busy keeping an eye out for the Snitch to watch much of the time.  And if our own Chasers start to have trouble, call out one of our set plays to get them to regroup.  Got it?"  

"Right," Ron said with a sharp nod.  

As they entered the changing rooms, Hermione was just leaving.  "Oh! There you are," she said.  "I just charmed your robes to stay warm in the cold.  I checked and warming charms upon your gear are allowed.  I wanted to ask if you wanted me to charm the gloves I know you both wear but you weren't here.  I had already done the others' gloves."  She looked worried but Ron was nodding as if to say, "Definitely."  

"Oh, good.  I already did," she said.  "I hope you don't mind."

"No," Harry said, grinning at her.  "That's brilliant of you.  Thanks."  

Hermione beamed and reached up, one hand cupping Harry's cheek, and pulled him down for a quick kiss on the mouth.  "Good luck then.  Both of you."  She sent Ron, who wasn't looking, a smile and then hurriedly left.  

In the changing rooms, the rest of the team was already donning their scarlet robes and Harry quickly read the official lineup for Ravenclaw on a slip that Madam Hooch had given him the night before.  There were no surprises there and he quickly turned back to lacing up the front of his robe.  He pulled on his Seeker gloves then and, giving his Firebolt a perfunctory once over, walked to the head of the room.  

The other team members automatically settled down upon the two benches facing him then and quieted.  Harry cleared his throat and began, "All right then—"

"Men, women—this is the big one," twin voices called out, entering the room from the back.  "The one we've all been waiting for," Fred and George both went on to say amid their own giggles.  The Weasley twins, Alicia Spinnet and Oliver Wood had just entered the changing room and were standing together in the back all wearing outrageously garish red and gold pointy wizard hats.  

"Harry!?" Oliver cried, striding forward with his eyes wide.  He looked Harry up and down and marveled, "You grew…like a _foot_!"  His hand went from his side and up to the top of Harry's head.  

"Aren't you playing for Puddlemere now?" Andrew Sloper asked, looking up in awe at Oliver.  

"Yeah, but practice isn't until late this afternoon," Oliver said waving it away like it was nothing.  "I'm here to watch Gryffindor defend the Quidditch Cup!  It's been ours for three straight years!" Oliver said, pounding as fist into his other hand.  

"Well, we didn't have Quidditch one of those years," Fred (or George) muttered.  

Oliver paid them no heed and began to pace in the front of the team, causing Harry to have to step back to keep from getting run over.  "Gryffindor has always been the team to beat!  The legacy of Quidditch in our House is one filled with pride and victory!" Oliver cried.  The Weasley twins were both clutching their hearts and swelling up their chests dramatically.  "A long and honored line of the finest fliers have worn these same robes you now wear and flown to defend the honor and pride of our House!"  Oliver clamped his hand on one of Harry's shoulders now and moved him forward as he said, "And here, the youngest Seeker in over a century in all of Hogwarts!"  Oliver's voice was bursting with pride.  "Who's never failed yet, to win us a game!"

George (or Fred) muttered, "Well, there was that one time—with the Dementors."

But Oliver waved that off and said dismissively, "That one really didn't count."

Harry smiled and tried to prise Oliver's grip from his shoulder and said, "Yes, we, er, need to get ready to take the pitch.  Though, thank you, Oliver."  

Alicia then snuck up and dragged Oliver back to sit down beside her, the twins, Katie and Abby.   "Let Harry get on with his pregame, Oliver," she chided.  

"Right," Harry said, retaking his position in front of the team.  "Well, I've already told you, we've got a strong team and I think we're going to surprise Ravenclaw today.  I don't think they have any clue how strong are Chasers are now and I think they expect our Beaters to not have improved at all since last year.  But they haven't a clue."  Harry was making it up as he went along and started to think on what Oliver had said earlier.  "I know we're the team to beat to this year because I've seen us.  Ravenclaw couldn't beat us last year and they won't this year.  They haven't a clue that we're playing for more than just a cup or bragging rights.  Oliver was right.  It is about honor and pride to Gryffindor House.  We do have a tradition to uphold that goes beyond the title of Quidditch Cup."  Harry recalled being told back when he was a first year that Gryffindor was the winningest team of all the Houses, closely followed by Slytherin.  "And we also play for the honor of one recently…lost to us; our former veteran Chaser and captain from last year, Angelina.  The team that played alongside her and for Gryffindor for the past six years is here today," he gestured to the back row where they all sat, somber.   Harry took a few pacing steps and then, in a strong voice, said, "She gave six years to the tradition of Gryffindor Quidditch and we will honor her memory today with a win!"  

Fred and George clapped and whooped as red and gold sparks flew out of the top of each of the garish pointed hats they all wore.  The rest of the team stood and gripped their brooms with determination and were led by Katie, her arm slung around Abby, out of the room.  

"Like the hats, Harry?" one of the twins asked.

"We gave Colin a whole box of them to spread out to everyone."

"Yeah, we've got them all charmed to this," Fred said, holding out an innocent looking Gryffindor pennant.  "When I wave this pennant, all the hats give off the sparks."  

Harry warned them about not setting off anything that would interfere with the game as they walked out through a short tunnel towards the pitch.  

"We would never interfere with the team!"  George cried, a hurt look on his face.  

"The pride and honor of Gryffindor!" Fred said, clutching his chest dramatically again.  

"Go on you two," Harry said, pushing them out of the way and walking to the front of the tunnel.  An icy blast of air hit him and the sound of the crowd cheering and stomping their way up to the raised seats could be heard.  "Everyone ready?" he asked, looking back at the team. They all nodded and Ginny was standing beside Ron, both of them looking determined. "We fly out from here," he said.  He then turned, mounted his Firebolt and looked back to see everyone else doing the same and falling into a single line.  As Harry kicked off and flew off into the wintry air, flying over the snow and over people still walking to the pitch, he remembered Dumbledore's talk about him leading an army.  Speeding into the stadium, the wind whipping through his hair and his team following behind, Harry thought, maybe it wasn't such a crazy thought at all.

After a warm up lap where Harry lapped the entire team once before slowing to fly alongside Ron and then a few minutes of warm up where he mainly watched the Ravenclaw team fly about, Madam Hooch blew her whistle and cried, "To the ground!  Captains!" to signal the start of the game.  Everyone flew to the ground, where the snow had been magically melted from off the green pitch.  Harry stepped forward and Madam Hooch said, "Potter, Chang--shake hands!"

Cho stepped forward from behind Michael Corner and, glaring coolly at Harry, quickly grasped and then dropped his hand without much of a shake at all.  Harry stepped back and let the Chasers form a half circle around Hooch who then said, "On my whistle—" and as the whistle blew, they all kicked off into the air, Harry rising high, high up and above the others.  

"It's Ravenclaw challenging the defending Quidditch Cup champs today," Colin's eager and magically amplified voice called out.  "Gryffindor's back and so is the youngest Seeker in over a century, Harry Potter, as captain."

Katie swooped in as the Quaffle was released and took possession, hurling it out to Ginny who was already streaking towards the Ravenclaw goals.  Harry was still rising and circling as he watched Corner race to get into position.  He then saw Zoe belt a Bludger at Corner, making him duck and falter, which allowed Ginny to pass off to Abby who was waiting in position for the easy score.

"Gryffindor scores!  Abby Johnson with an assist from Ginny Weasley who's now a Chaser scores before—who?—oh, Corner, er, could get into position.  Ten-nothing Gryffindor!" Dennis cried out.  Harry noted, the Creeveys were shouting so loud, they barely needed to be magically amplified.  He also noted that as Gryffindor scored, small showers of red and gold sparks could be seen here and there throughout the stands.  

As the Ravenclaw Chasers made their way back across the pitch, Katie stole a pass from Goldstein and Gryffindor had another break away.  But Colin was busy trying to focus his commentary on Harry.  "Harry Potter, questionably banned last year from playing, is back and has never lost a game against Ravenclaw—oh!  Twenty to nothing Gryffindor!"

"Katie Bell with the score!" Dennis added.  

Harry rolled his eyes at the Creeveys' antics and reversed his circling of the pitch only to find Cho there, blocking him and glaring defiantly.  Harry rolled to the right and then to the left and both times she followed, blocking him.  "Cho Chang is trying to block Potter for some reason," Colin said and then added conversationally, "They used to go out."  Harry pulled up sharply on his broom and looped over backwards before somersaulting over and straightening out to streak past Cho.  "Whoa!  Did you see that?   Harry's off!"

"Where's he going?" Dennis asked, excited.  Harry wasn't going anywhere, he was just flying about the pitch and he saw Gryffindor score again, despite neither Creevey mentioning it.  

"Harry's on a Firebolt!" Colin said.  "That's one of the fastest racing brooms on the market!" 

"He's never lost a game on his Firebolt!"  Dennis said.  

Harry watched the Ravenclaw Chasers close in on Ron and one took a shot at a goal.  The Quaffle was batted up by Ron who then rose up and batted it again to Katie, sending the Chasers back across the pitch.  Harry whooped and clapped.

"What?  Oh! Weasley made a save!  Still twenty nothing Gryffindor!"

"Mister Creevey!  Focus upon the game!" McGonagall could be heard yelling.  

"I'll help!" a familiar voice chimed in.  Lee Jordon had joined the stand where the Creeveys were now and his amplified voice had started commentating in his well-known play-by-play style.  "Good to see you Professor—wow!  Andrew Kirke, a third year Beater returning for Gryffindor sends a Bludger at Taylor and Gryffindor recovers the Quaffle.  Bell to Weasley and back to Bell who dodges around Goldstein—fine move there—and passes on to Abigail Johnson—another third year and –oh!  She shoots and a fine save by Corner—the first save of the day for Ravenclaw's Corner.  He outlets to Taylor and here comes Ravenclaw back down the pitch."  

Harry keep circling, speeding up and slowing down to not allow Cho to mark him easily.  The score was still twenty nil and Ron had mad two more fine saves.  The Ravenclaw Chasers were being hampered severely by Andrew and Zoe who were commandeering the Bludgers so much their own Beaters seemed to barely get to hit them.  Harry also could see the Weasley twins, two twin bright red heads covered with those ridiculous red and gold hats, walking about through the stands and, if Harry wasn't mistaken, they were handing out more and more of the hats.    This was confirmed when Harry saw the number of red and gold sparks shooting up had greatly increased after Lee had announced another score by Ginny.  

Harry could see the breath of all the spectators rising in the cool air.  The air upon his face was icy as he flew and the tips of his ears were numb.  He had to keep his mouth closed to keep his teeth from getting cold and he kept sniffling from a running nose now.  But his robes and gloves kept him warm and besides rosy cheeks, it looked like all the other Gryffindors were faring just fine with the frigid temperature and winds of flying.  Ravenclaw, on the other hand, kept dropping the Quaffle and Harry suspected their Beaters inability to control the Bludgers was due to freezing hands.  

"It's thirty nothing Gryffindor as Weasley scores her first goal of the day!" Lee said.  "Temperatures are frigid here but the Gryffindor team seems oblivious.  No signs of the Snitch yet."

"Harry's caught the Snitch in all but one game," Colin chimed in helpfully.

"Is that right?" Lee said conversationally.  "Goldstein gets a pick on the pass from Bell to Johnson and fires it ahead—oh no—a Bludger from Kirke knocks the Quaffle down and Ginny Weasley—"

"That's our sister!" Fred and George's now amplified voices yelled.

"—Recovers the Quaffle for Gryffindor!  Always been at least two Weasleys on the team for Gryffindor for the past seven years.  She fakes a pass and gives a shake to Goldstein—brilliant move!  Passes to Johnson and—Oh!  Chang flies in to break up the play.  Where are those Ravenclaw Beaters?"

"One does wonder," one of the twins said conversationally now.  

"Oi!  That prat's going to score!" the other twin cried as a Ravenclaw Chaser gave Ron a brilliant fake and then tossed the Quaffle through the lowest hoop for their first score.

"Thirty to ten Gryffindor!  A fine move there for the first score against Keeper Weasley," Lee said as McGonagall could be heard trying to tell the twins to take of their Sonorous Charms.  "But here comes Bell of Gryffindor with the Quaffle back—dodges a Bludger—rolls and dumps to Johnson and back to Bell, score!  Forty to ten Gryffindor.  Oh! The pass from Corner is picked and Johnson—no!  She flies back around and passes to Bell.  Gryffindor regrouping into the Hawkshead formation now with Bell in the lead."

Harry began to look more earnestly for the Snitch as the cold was causing him to lose feeling in his entire face.  The metal on his glasses was like ice against his skin and stung. Gryffindor had scored several more times and Ron had only allowed in one other goal.  The red and gold sparks that went off every time Gryffindor had a fine play were distracting most probably to only Harry and maybe Cho.  Other than the sparks, there had been no glints of gold.  

"Johnson rolls to avoid a Bludger and Bell weaves with Weasley--"

"That's our sister!" the twins yelled again.

"--Weasley in the lead and Sorensen belts the Bludger back across at Corner--_oh!_  That had to _hurt!_  And Weasley dumps to Johnson in for the easy score--_Foul_!  Blatching on Taylor who collides with Johnson as she went for the score and that sets up a penalty shot for Gryffindor."  Lee was obviously at home running his mouth throughout the game and as the players lined up to wait for Abby's penalty shot, Harry saw Colin and Lee elbowing each other for the best view of the match.  

Showers of red and gold sparks were erupting from hats all across the stands now as Fred was waving his pennants and grinning madly.   Harry even thought he could see George trying to put a hat on Professor McGonagall's head.  As Harry was watching them with amusement, he saw Oliver Wood stand up, furious and yell, "POTTER!  Stop floating like a balloon and find the bleeding Snitch!"  Harry jerked his broom down and took off, refocusing on the game at hand as the Gryffindor supporters erupted again as Abby scored on her penalty shot.  

"Seventy ten Gryffindor!" Dennis's high voice shrieked.    

Harry was banking around the far end of the pitch and scanning the ground for a sign of the Snitch.  He saw Ron, alone, by the Gryffindor goal posts and grinning away as he clapped and cheered.  The game had been largely down on the other end of the pitch now, their Chasers dominating possession of the Quaffle.  

Harry streaked past him and rose up, still searching.  He passed over Cho who was screaming at her Beaters to stop the Chasers, but the Beaters were yelling back that their hands were frozen to their bats and they couldn't help it if they had no feeling in their fingers.  Harry just smirked and reminded himself to thank Hermione properly after the game for their warming charms.  

Then, just above Cho, a glimmer of gold appeared and Harry flew in an arc around and, sure enough, he saw the Golden Snitch hovering serenely above Cho as she still screamed, red faced, down at her team.  Harry leaned forward upon his Firebolt and let it fly as he accelerated all out towards Cho in the center of the pitch.  He was flat upon the handle of his broom with one arm back, ready to snap forth and pluck the Snitch.  As the crowd began to shout and point at his speeding approach towards Cho, she looked up and, meeting Harry's eyes, screamed in terrified fear.  He could see she hadn't moved out of the way and hoped she'd just stay put.  He heard Oliver Wood then, screaming loud enough for his voice to have been magically amplified, and warning him, "DON'T YOU _DARE_ BE A GENTLEMAN, POTTER!!!"  

Harry was resolved to get the Snitch and as the front of his broom was inches away from Cho's head, he plunged the nose down and snapped his hand up to pluck the hovering Snitch from just above her head.  He descended in a rapid vertical drop downwards, his robes whipping Cho in the face, then spiraled out across the pitch, holding the fluttering Snitch aloft in his hand amid cheers and a great many bursts of red and gold sparks.  There were even a few sets of Weasley Wizarding Whizbangles going off now that spelled out, "GO GRYFFINDOR!"  

Harry grinned as he completed his lap of the stadium and simply could not contain his laughter to see Professor McGonagall, not even fighting the garish read and gold hat stuffed over her head and being hugged ecstatically by Oliver Wood.  

Harry then flew to the ground where six other red blurs were already converging and piling together in a celebratory group hug, quickly being joined by an onslaught of Gryffindors pouring forth from the stands.  He was engulfed in the mob as he hit the ground and Ginny and Zoe both jumped up to hug him and squealed deafeningly in both of his ears.  Katie hugged him then and he knew from her hiccupping that she was already crying.  

"We were brilliant!" Ron cried as Ginny jumped up and down, hugging him.  Katie turned to Ron and collapsed in joyful sobs against his chest and Ron, holding her to him without a thought, grinned at Harry.  "We're going to win the cup!" he cried as Zoe and Ginny hoisted up Abby onto their shoulders, still squealing gleefully.  

Harry saw Alicia, the twins, Lee and Oliver grinning madly and rushing over.  Alicia and Katie fell into an embrace and were each bawling, laughing, and bawling some more.  

"Harry!" Hermione cried, beaming up at him as she made her way to him and flung her arms around his neck.  "Everyone was _wonderful_!  _You_ were wonderful!" she cried and kissed him.  

"No," he said, grinning back and spinning around to keep his balance in the melee.  "_You_ were wonderful!  If we hadn't had those warming charms, we'd have been just as stiff as Ravenclaw.  You _are_ brilliant, you know," he murmured as he pulled her waist to him, plunged a hand up into her hair and, pulling her up to his face, plundered her mouth like no was watching.  

They fell into a soul-searching kiss that had Harry fighting the need to breath until he heard Oliver gasp, "Merlin!  It's true?!"  Harry, bright green eyes now darkened by passion, pulled back and Hermione wavered breathlessly on her feet.  "I thought the whole thing in the Prophet rag was just cock and bull!" Oliver said, looking between them with wide-eyed astonishment.  

Harry grinned sheepishly at him, blushing at bit now at being caught in such an embrace, but still held Hermione close.  "Not all of it, mate," he said.  

"Party in the tower!" one of the twins called out, setting off a new round of red and gold sparks and another set of Whizbangles.  

"Not so fast, Misters Weasley!" McGonagall could be heard.  "You're no longer students here, need I remind you?"  

They all started to head back to the castle, McGonagall arguing with the twins the whole way that they could not hang around and visit with old school chums for the rest of the day.  Harry, his arm around Hermione, brought up the rear of the group, strolling along and feeling quite content until he felt the distinct sizzle of a spell skiving off his robes.  He whirled around, his wand whipped out and he and Hermione each erected Shield Spells as they spun around to face the direction of the spell.  But beyond the shimmering twin blue shields, he could see a sheepishly smiling and very amused face beneath a short mop of spiky red hair with gold tips.  "Tonks!" Harry and Hermione each cried, laughing.  

She was standing there as two of her fellow Aurors gave her equally incredulous looks at the audacity it must take to send a spell at an unsuspecting and knowingly trigger-happy wizard like Harry Potter.  But Harry and Hermione were each smiling at her and shaking their heads.  Hermione got to her first and gave her a tremendous hug.  Harry hung back; he saw Dumbledore walking along towards them, just leaving the stadium.  

"Sorry, there, Harry," Tonks said contritely as Hermione let her go.  

Harry, who had not seen her up at the school since her father had been murdered in the Halloween attacks, pulled her into a hug and said, "Yeah, yeah, I'm sure it's too ordinary to ask you to just yell out, 'Oi, you!' now, isn't it?"  She laughed softly and hugged him back.  

"Yeah, it is.  Hey," she said, pulling back and smiling.  "Anyone ever tell you you're a really excellent flier?"  

Harry laughed.  "Really?  You think?"  

"Oh!" Hermione said, swatting him.  "You're all Mister Modest when it comes to anything else but tell him a he's a good flier and he's all, 'ya think?'  _You!"_  

Harry just grinned at her and shrugged, "Well, when it's true…"

They all laughed and Hermione swatted him playfully again.  Dumbledore was now approaching them, proudly sporting one of the Weasley's garish read and gold hats; he beamed and said, "A most excellent victory for Gryffindor, Harry!  Well done, well done!"  

"Thank you, sir."  

Dumbledore, smiling, turned and then engaged one of the other young Aurors in conversation.  Tonks pulled Harry and Hermione over to the side and said, "It really was an excellent game there today."

"Oh, but how _are_ you?" Hermione implored, searching the normally spriteful face of Tonks.   

Tonks shrugged, smiled, scowled a moment and then smiled resignedly.  "What can I say?"

"How's your mum?" Harry asked.  The last he'd heard she'd still been feeling a bit traumatized by the attack and the loss of her memory.  

Tonks sighed and kicked up a spray of snow.  She looked up at Harry and shook her head.  "She says she's alright, but I know she's not.  I just _know_ it!"  Her jaw set itself and her fists clenched; Harry could see her clenching her eyes shut and struggling not to scream (he knew that feeling all too well).  Her eyes opened and she looked up into his face, "Harry," she said.  "Do me a favor?"  He nodded once.  "Kill that son of a bitch when you find him."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

REMINDER:  You can find chapter files, a discussion forum, and other dedicated and outrageously Potter-obsessed readers at my Yahoo group for this fic.  There is a link on my bio page to the group.  The Yahoo group name is: HP_AoF.  Cheers!


	35. Chapter 38 Walking in a Winter Wonderla...

Chapter 38.  Walking in a Winter Wonderland

_"Kill that son of a bitch when you find him."_

_The words Tonks had spoken have marched their way in and out of my mind nearly every day since I saw her.  I had only nodded when she said them at the time.  What could I have possibly said to that?  The truth of it is, I actually bit back my first reply that, just upon instinct, had been, "I will or I'll die trying."  I didn't even think about it.  It's like just some phrase one might throw out in hyperbole.  Like Oliver telling me to get the Snitch or die trying.   But that's just it, isn't?  I will either kill that son of a bitch or die trying.  _

Harry looked down at the last sentence he'd written in his journal as he laid in his bed, the hangings shut tight and the sounds of his dorm mates snoring rising and falling rhythmically.  _Kill or be killed.  Either must die at the hand of the other.  Murdered or murderer_.  The truth had been trying to realize itself in his mind for months now and somehow, it'd never really hit him until now.  At least not in some tangible way that brought it home like saying, _I will either kill him or die trying_.   And but of course this moment of clarity had come on the heels of Gryffindor's victory over Ravenclaw; completely chasing away any elation Harry had felt at the victory with the brutal chill of inevitable truth and undeniable reality.  

It had taken a lot of convincing to get Hermione to go back to the Common Room where the party had already begun.  She could tell Tonks' words had affected Harry.  Eventually, she gave in because Harry was, after all, the captain and expected to show up to celebrate the win.  When they'd entered it was immediately apparent McGonagall had lost the fight to keep Fred and George from visiting their old friends.  It was also apparent that the twins, as being of age and free adults, took it upon themselves to make sure no one was deprived of the delights of Firewhiskey.  

Ron had held the bottle up in triumph when Harry entered.  "Harry!  C'mon, mate!  Celebrate!" he'd yelled and then swigged until he swooned.  It was tempting, Harry had to admit, but he also just knew if he let his brain get woozy then he'd likely turn into a sobbing heap of self-pity.  Or, judging by Hermione's expression at seeing Ron and the twins, he'd have been transfigured into a newt.  He forewent the drink and contented himself to watch Hermione's futile attempts to restore order.  He mentally thanked himself for giving away the Prefect badge and watched Neville, who was staying away from Hermione and quietly keeping busy with a certain blonde visitor from Ravenclaw, off by the fireplace.  

Eventually, Hermione dropped into the seat beside him and huffed.  "Oh, go drink if you want.  I'm not stopping anyone else, I might as well not stop you," she had said grumpily.  

"I don't want to," he'd told her, making her look at him oddly.

"Oh, just go.  If anyone deserves a break, it's you, Harry."

How could he explain he just didn't want to lose his first real bit of clarity about his doomed life?  He couldn't.  He didn't try.  "I'd rather I deserved you," he'd said and then pulled her to him.  That was the afternoon they found it was extremely amusing to watch people get pissed and then, subsequently, found that people who were plastered were less likely to notice a girl sneaking up to the boys' dormitories.  

Harry now tightened the cap on his inkbottle and closed his journal, sealing it with a spell.  He'd surely have gone mad by now if he didn't have Hermione to preoccupy his time and mind, he thought as he tucked them into a pocket on his hangings.  She was the only thing keeping him sane.  He slipped his glasses off, folded them and tucked them in beside the quill, book and ink.  His wand he then waved in a circle, enlarging his Perimeter Charm and erecting an Imperturbable Charm before slipping it beneath his pillow.  With a sigh, he slid down under the duvet and pulled it up, almost over his head.  

All week, despite being loaded down with mid-year tests and assignments, his mind had kept being drawn back to those words.  Every time they echoed in his head it felt he'd convinced yet another part of himself just how real everything was.   _Kill that son of a bitch when you find him.  If the thought occupied his mind during the day, then it could surely be said that the words were haunting him at night. __Kill that son of a bitch when you find him.  It was like a plea for vengeance sometimes cried as a plaintive wail; other times it was screamed in fury. But almost always, the words were followed by a murmuring chorus of affirmatives, urging him onward like some chosen avenger.  _

"Harry!  Wake up, mate!"

Harry could feel Ron running his hands over the hangings of his bed, trying to find the opening.  "Go, 'way," Harry grumbled as he smacked his lips and tried to moisten his parched mouth.  Harry knew Ron couldn't hear him from within the hangings and the charm but, so rudely awakened from sleep, Harry couldn't be arsed to care much.

"Come _on," Ron implored, not giving up.  Ron was obviously wide-awake which also told Harry that it was obviously well into the morning.  "Harry, it's been posted in the Common Room that it's a Hogsmeade weekend.  Hurry up--we can leave in an hour!"_

Harry only snuggled deeper under his covers and drew them up tight.  He snaked one hand under his pillow to grasp his wand and grumbled incoherently to end the Imperturbable Charm around his bed.  Ron, suddenly finding the part in the hangings, thrust them apart and made to tear off Harry's covers. "Come o--_ow_!"  Harry smirked as he hit Ron with a Stinging Hex as soon as he'd reached for the covers.  No one was getting him to leave his snuggly and warm bed until he was good and ready.   Ron was sulking and nursing his stung hand.  "Maybe I'll start hexing you, you prat.  Now get up!"

Harry laughed into his pillow.  "You couldn't hex me, Weasley.  You're too slow."  Of course a taunt like this could only mean one thing between teenage wizards.  Harry lunged out of the far side of his bed, dodging whatever spell Ron had tried to hit him with.  "Too slo--_ooooow, Weasley!" Harry taunted as he fell to the freezing floor in a heap and scurried beneath his bed, pointed his wand at Ron's overly large feet and cast a Trip Jinx.  All morose thoughts and voices from his mind and the night before were forgotten as Harry watched Ron begin to take a step.  _

"Damn—_oof!!_" Ron toppled to the ground in a heap as soon as he tried to move and groaned after hitting the floor.  "Aroow…"

Harry snickered as he saw Ron just a few feet away, sprawled out across the floor.  He crawled forward and peeked out from under his bed at his fallen friend.  "Hey, Ron," he said cheerfully.  "Wanna go into Hogsmeade?"

The door to the dormitory then opened and Seamus and Dean both walked in, stopping at the sight before them.  "What in the name of Morgan Le Fey is going on here?" Seamus asked slowly, looking between Ron, still groaning and sprawled out in the middle of the floor and Harry who was grinning madly as he peeked out from under his bed, shirtless.

"Morning, Seamus, Dean," Harry said brightly.  "Ron tried to hex me.  He failed.  Got put on his arse, you might say."  Harry started to slither out from under the bed and stood up, brushing off the dust from his pyjama bottoms.  Ron, sniffing and pouting, also started to stand up and just grumbled under his breath.  Seamus and Dean each gave them wide berths as they passed to their beds and Harry ducked out to shower.

The Common Room was full of bustling Gryffindors, donning heavy winter cloaks and wrapping red and gold scarves about their necks as they prepared for a day in the village of Hogsmeade.  Harry came down and spotted Ron right away playing fifth year Jack Sloper in Exploding Snap.  Harry kept looking and finally spotted Hermione, alone at a table covered in books and back in a corner.  

"Good morning," he said slipping into the chair beside her and brushing a kiss across her cheek.  

"You just woke up, I take it?" she said in a disapproving tone, not even looking up from her reading.  

"No, I just got out of the shower," Harry said, running a hand through his still-wet hair.  

Hermione looked up at him then and at his hair.  She frowned and leaned her book back on the table.  She raised one hand, about to run it through Harry's hair but stopped and asked, "Who's been cutting your hair?"  

"Huh?"

"Your hair.  You got it cut early last summer and it's still just as short now as it was then.  Who's been cutting it?"

"Er, the same person as always?" Harry said, shrugging.  "No one."

Hermione looked disbelieving.  "You cut your own hair?"

"No.  I mean no one cuts my hair.  Believe me, the last thing I need is more haircuts.  I've had enough to last a lifetime.  You _are_ coming into to Hogsmeade today, aren't you?"  

Hermione did not appreciate him changing the subject and pouted.  "Harry, someone's cutting your hair."

"Hello!  Hogsmeade!" Harry said, waving his hands in front of Hermione's face.  "Best chance to get your Christmas shopping done, now are you coming or do I have to drag you?"

Turns out, Harry only had to drag Hermione out of Gryffindor Tower, after that she followed along on her own, albeit begrudgingly at first.  

"Come _on_," Ron said, exasperated at Harry and Hermione's slow pace as they crossed the Entrance Hall, past Filch and left the castle.  "Fred and George said Zonkos is carrying their line of Student Specials.  I suggested they should make a hair greaser product that makes your nose grow great and beaky and call it Greasy Git Goop.  They said they'd consider it."

Harry had to laugh and saw even Hermione crack in her disapproving frown at the humor of the idea.  "You warm enough?" he asked as they each had to tighten their cloaks and further wrap their scarves around their necks and ears to keep out the biting cold as they made their way down the front steps and to a waiting carriage.  

"Yes," Hermione said as her teeth chattered, belying her words.  "It's just I ought to have worn trousers."  She tried to wrap her calf-length cloak more tightly around her as they approached a thestral-drawn carriage.  The carriages made trips between the castle and the village and they were lucky to find one waiting, likely back from its first trip into the village.

Ron was still going on about the twins' newest products as he climbed into the carriage.  Harry leaned in and whispered, "I like you in a skirt," as he offered his hand to Hermione to aid her stepping up and into the carriage.  

"Hold up!" came Seamus' voice from the castle steps.  "We need a ride in, too!"  He and Dean were sprinting, slipping on snow and ice, down the path to the carriage and waving frantically.  Panting, they both climbed in and budged in beside Ron.  

"Phew!  Thought we might have had to leg it!" Dean said as the carriage began to roll down the lane, swaying gently back and forth.  "Hey, Hermione, I thought the Gryffindor Prefects were supposed to be decorating the castle today?"

"What?" Hermione said.  "No—the Ravenclaws had scheduled today as their day for Holiday decorations," she said knowingly.

 Dean just shrugged.  "Oh, well I saw Ginny and Colin say they had to stay because the schedule had changed or something.  They were grumbling about it because they wouldn't be able to go into Hogsmeade."

Hermione then huffed and her temper flared.  "Ooh!!!  That—Cho!  She must have changed the schedule when she heard it was a Hogsmeade day—ooh!"  She looked desperately at Harry and he knew what she was thinking.

"No, you are not going back to the castle.  You are coming into Hogsmeade," he said, wrapping his arms around her upper arms to prevent her escape.  "No, no, no.  Don't make me tell Ron to Obliviate you," he said in mock warning.  "We can make you forget you were ever named a Prefect and then what would you do?" he teased.  

"Yeah," Ron said, nodding.  "Last time I got near an Obliviate Charm it landed someone in St. Mungo's" he said referring to Gilderoy Lockhart.  

Hermione looked grumpy.  "But if—"

"If anyone asks why you weren't there, it's because you didn't know.  It's not your fault if Cho poorly communicates a change in the schedule."  Hermione gave Harry a look and he nodded knowingly.  "Yes, I know, I'm a very bad influence on you."

The rest of the ride into the village was full of Quidditch banter as the Gryffindors recalled their team's defeat of Ravenclaw and the rumoured reactions of their captain, Cho Chang, after the defeat.  

"I heard she cursed the Beaters after the game."

"No way!"

"I heard she was bawling in the changing rooms for an hour after the game."

Ron snorted at this one.  "Now that at least sounds like her.  Right Harry?"

"She's been absolutely horrid to all the Gryffindors in Prefect meetings," Hermione said, tapping each of her mittens with her wand to warm them up.  "She's never let me speak once at a meeting this year but this week she's been just awful to all of us."

"What a berk."

"Seamus!" Hermione scolded his language.

"Well?  When it's true?"  He shrugged and Dean was nodding along in agreement.

"Almost there," Ron said looking out the window of the carriage.  "Zonkos and then Three Broomsticks?" he asked looking at Harry who still had one arm around the back of Hermione.  Ron had been distinctly not looking towards them in light of this fact and quickly resumed his observation of the passing landscape.  

Harry leaned forward to look out the window and said, "I need to do my Christmas shopping too so I'll need to go around a bit.  Could use some more quills and ink. Oh, and how could you forget Honeydukes!?" he laughed at Ron.

Ron looked stricken for a moment.  "Wow.  Must be the cold."  He grinned then and said, "Definitely Honeydukes."

They exited the carriages as they came upon the High Street and made for Honeydukes as their first stop.  There, Harry loaded up on Chocolate Frogs and chocolate bars.  "For the DA when they work with the Dementor," he explained when Ron and Hermione gave him disbelieving looks at his armful of chocolate.  Hermione, herself also discreetly stocked up on a large bag of chocolates that she tried to keep hidden from the boys. 

"Zonkos next?" Ron asked as they each left Honeydukes with large bags.  

Harry nodded but Hermione said, "You two go on there and I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks afterwards, okay?"  Before Harry could protest, she said, "I have to do some Christmas shopping, you know and I can't do it very well if you're around, now can I?" She gave Harry a mysterious smile and turned to leave, calling out, "In about an hour, all right?"

In Zonkos, Harry and Ron spotted a great big sign high above a counter that had a very large picture of Harry's grinning face and read, "WEASLEY WIZARD WHEEZES".  Then the letters on the sign erupted into sparklers and gave off a flurry of confetti before rearranging themselves into a tiny speech bubble extending from picture Harry's mouth that read, "Worth every detention!"

Ron nudged him and pointed unnecessarily up at the sign, which had several people laughing and had Harry's face fiercely flushing red with embarrassment.  "Didn't think I'd have to actually ever _see any of those ridiculous adverts," he mumbled, quickly darting out of the main entrance way.  _

"Look!  Canary Creams!" Ron cried, pointing to one of the glass cases along the wall and beaming.  "And there's the Skiving Snackboxes!  Whoa!"  He shook his head looking all along the case at the twins' products on display.  "They must really be raking it in," he said wistfully.  

They wandered around the store and marvelled at the same things they always did while Ron kept looking wistfully at all the Wheezes on display about the store.  "They told me I could leave school like they did and come work for them, you know," he said to Harry.  

"Really?" Harry said absentmindedly as he perused a barrel of Dungbombs ("Now in three new holiday scents!").  "Bet your mum would love that."

Ron laughed shortly.  "Yeah, she'd skin me alive.  But you know, it is tempting," Ron said casually, examining a set of Filibuster Fireworks.  "I turn of age in March and Fred and George were allowed into the Order even though they didn't finish and take their NEWTs.  I could join then…really get the inside information," he said, giving Harry a sly look.  "I'd tell you too, of course…"

Harry looked up and was surprised to see Ron's look; he hadn't been taking Ron very seriously up until now.  "You're not serious?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Course I would!  You don't think I'd tell you?" Ron said, dropping the Fireworks into the barrel and moving on.  "There's loads of jobs where I don't need any NEWTs at all, I've been thinking about it and—"

"Ron, you're mad," Harry said simply.  "What—you want to drive the Knight Bus?  Forget it--you'd regret it and your mum _would_ skin you alive if she thought you only ditched school to be able to join the Order and get information.  What happened to becoming an Auror?"  Harry couldn't believe they were even having this conversation.  

Ron just shrugged again.  "Dunno if it's the thing for me, really."  Harry just stared, open-mouthed and incredulous at Ron.  With one last wistful look at the Wheeze display case, Ron sighed and said, "Should we head up the street to the Three Broomsticks?  I'll buy the first Butterbeer."

Harry hurried out the door after Ron, dodging a giggling group of fourth years that were pointing up at his picture on the advert banner.  Back out in the street, large snowflakes had begun to fall Ron was already walking briskly, making Harry have to trot to catch up.  "You're not leaving school, right?" Harry asked, sounding more like he just wanted to confirm it for himself than really ask the question.  

Ron slowed and looked at him with his head cocked to the side and said, "You know who you're starting to sound like?"  At Harry's confused look, Ron sighed and said, "Think about who you spend most of your time with."

_Hermione.  "Oh, well.  Hey, that's not such a bad thing.  I'd never hear the end of it from her if you left.  Think what she'd say!"  Harry mimicked a high voice, nothing at all like Hermione's, and said, "All those hours revising and checking over your homework—wasted!  Honestly!"_

Ron snorted and then stopped; looking down the side street they were passing.  "Hey, isn't that Snape?" he said, pointing to a rapidly retreating figure whose black robes and cloak were billowing in the wind.  "Let's check it out," Ron said and didn't even wait for Harry as he turned and marched down the street.  

"I don't know, Ron," Harry said uncertainly. 

Ron spun and faced him.  "Well, now it's for certain," he said coolly.  "You definitely are sounding an awful lot like her."

"Well what are we checking out?" Harry said as he followed.  Ron didn't answer as they passed a few small homes and an old second-hand bookshop.  "Look," Harry said, pointing to the sign outside the shop from where Snape had exited.  "It's an apothecary.  Satisfied?"

Ron grumbled and still craned his neck around and then peeked into one of the dusty storefront windows of the shop.  Harry, though, kept looking over his shoulder and could not shake the feeling that they were being watched.  "Come on, let's get moving," he urged Ron.  

The Three Broomsticks was packed with people, students and villagers alike, that were coming in to warm up from the now swirling snow that was falling outside.  The hour was just about noon and everyone seemed to be coming in for a spot of lunch and something to warm their stomachs.  

"Don't see any empty tables," Ron said, standing up on tiptoe and craning over the pub's patrons.  They waded through the throng of people at the door and wove through, searching out a place to sit.

"You two need a spot to sit?" a girl's voice said from beside them.  They turned to find Katie Bell and the seventh year reserve Keeper Cassie Stimpson seated at a tall pub table just beside them.  

"Oh, hey Katie," Ron said, still looking over her head about all about the pub.  

"It's pretty full," Katie said, gesturing about.  "But we're almost ready to leave if you want the table."

Harry looked at Ron and shrugged, seeing no other real options.  "You're sure you don't mind?" Harry asked as he and Ron pulled out two tall barstools from the table.  Harry saw Stimpson blush deeply and hide her face; he recalled Katie had said she'd been harbouring some crush on him for a number of years.  He had gotten rather used to it though after the team had regularly began scrimmaging the reserves in practice.  

"Oh, not at all," Katie said graciously, smiling at Harry and then up at Ron.  "Have you two seen all the twins' stuff on sale at Zonkos?" she asked.  

"Have I ever!" Ron said with a roll of his eyes.  "They've got to be making a _fortune_!  It's unbelievable!"  

"I'll be right with you, boys," a harried looking Madam Rosmerta called to them as she perched a tray of foaming tankards high above her head, on the tip of her wand, and wove through the crowd with ease.  

Ron went on, still talking about the twins: "I'll be expecting something better than a Canary Cream or Dungbombs for Christmas from them this year—their sales must be through the roof!"

Harry still looked about, smirking to himself at Moody's voice within his head chanting, _constant vigilance.  Harry couldn't spot Hermione anywhere and assumed she had not arrived yet.  Numerous villagers raised a tankard or waved in greeting as they caught Harry's roving eyes, making Harry feel very self-conscious and eager to have a drink in his hand so he had something to do.  _

"I hear Lee's doing some of their creative marketing," Katie said, talking to Ron.

"All right boys, what can I get you?"  Madam Rosmerta asked, without looking as she came weaving back, pocketing a handful of coins.  "Oh, Harry Potter," she said, doing a quick double take at his face with the obligatory flick up towards his scar.  "First one's on the house for you," she added with a salacious wink and smile.  "Now what'll it be?"

"Er," Harry stammered.  "Just a couple of Butterbeers and—"

A grinning Ron broke in then and asked, "We also need a round of Firewhiskey…Harry here has had a hard week, you see."  Ron sent a wink at Harry and kept grinning at Madam Rosmerta who was giving Ron a look with one eye closed and the other peering at him consideringly.

"I'll see what I can find," she said slowly.  She turned back to Harry and asked, "Anything for the ladies?"

"Oh, we'll be leaving shortly," Katie said, waving off Harry's inquiring look.  

"Come on," Ron pleaded in a low voice with a raised eyebrow.

Katie blushed and mumbled, "Well maybe just a shot of the whiskey."  If Harry's wasn't completely mistaken, he thought Katie might just fancy Ron.

"Coming right up," Rosmerta said as she slipped off and back to the bar.

Ron couldn't stop grinning back and forth between Harry and Katie; Harry could only roll his eyes.  _At least my fame is good for something_, he thought.  A large table of younger Hufflepuffs seated near them then all rose to leave.  In their wake, it was apparent what had caused them to seek an alternative location; Snape had strode in and was seating himself at the bar, sending glares all about at any students who looked his way.

"Way to go, Ron," Harry said darkly as he tried to make it not look obvious he was watching Snape out of the corner of his eye.  "Guess who just walked in and would be more than happy to catch us drinking underage?"

Ron, not bothering to try and not be completely obvious, craned his neck around and gasped, "Bloody hell!"  He whipped his head back around and said, "Why's that greasy git in here?"

Katie saw who they were talking about and said, "Oh, we saw Professors Flitwick and Grubbly-Plank earlier as well.  We reckon they're here just to…you know, watch around since we're in the village today."  This assumption was indeed correct.  Dumbledore had told the students earlier in the year that any Hogsmeade visits this year would be announced at the last minute and depend upon the availability of the staff to help chaperone while the students were there.  "We saw a couple of extra Aurors in front of the Post Office, too.  Oh!  Quality Quidditch has opened a new store in town here, did you two hear?"

"What? No!" Ron said, looking at Harry like a kid who, well, who just heard about a new Quidditch store.  "We need to go there," he said, grinning and rubbing his hands together, just as Madam Rosmerta returned with a tray of two foaming tankards and four smaller empty glasses.  

"Here you are," she said, thumping the large tankards upon the worn wooden table.  She then set down the four empty glasses as Harry took a sip of the warm and frothy Butterbeer.  She Banished the tray back to the bar and pulled out an amber bottle from her apron with a wink.  She turned the glasses over and filled each to the brim with the smoking amber liquid.  "Don't say I never gave you anything now," she said in an undertone to Harry as she winked again and spun on her heels.  "Take a seat and I'll be right with you!" she called to a new group that just arrived in with a blast of swirling snow and cold air.   

Ron took his glass as soon as it had been filled and pushed one over to everyone at the table.  

"Oh, no," Stimpson said, turning a deep scarlet as Harry looked at her as she spoke for the first time.  "Upsets my stomach terribly," she mumbled and tipped back her empty glass to crunch on an ice cube.

"More for us!" Ron said gleefully and then turned to Katie.  "Cheers?" 

Katie grinned and clinked her glass to Ron's and said, "Cheers!" as they each threw back the drink as Harry watched with amusement.  

"Harry!" Hermione called out from near the door, shaking the snow off her cloak and pushing back the hood of her cloak.  "Look who I found!" she said, turning and pointing to a wizard beside her who was also stamping the snow from his boots.  

Harry, upon hearing her voice, had turned and was now grinning at Hermione.  He then waved as Remus looked up.  "Remus!  Come join us!" he called.

"Harry," Ron said, tugging at his sleeve.  "Drink up before she sees."  Ron shoved one glass of the Firewhiskey into Harry's hand and took the other for himself, casting furtive glances over at the approaching Remus and Hermione.  "Hurry up, mate!  She won't be pleased to see these," he warned and then gulped.

Harry was about to drink his glass down when a familiar shudder washed over him that signalled a certain greasy haired Potions git crossing his Perimeter Charm.  A long black wand thwacking upon the rim of Harry's glass quickly followed.  "What, pray tell, Potter, do you think you are doing?" asked the deadly sinister voice of Snape.  

"Er, I think we'll be leaving then," Katie mumbled as she and Stimpson slipped off their stools quickly.  

Harry was refusing to look up at Snape and made the mistake of, instead, looking across at Ron who had already swallowed the second shot but was still holding his breath, trying to prevent the telltale smoke from wafting out of his mouth.  

"Hello, Severus," Remus said as he strolled up and put a hand on Harry's shoulder.  

"Are you all right, Ron?" Hermione asked, looking at him in concern.  

Katie looked torn between leaving Ron and staying for the chastisement that was sure to come from Snape and asked him, "Er, were you coming to the Quidditch shop with us, Ron?"

Hermione, seeing Ron turning a blue color from holding his breath and not breathing then gave him a sound thump on the back, saying, "Ron!  Can you breathe?" Of course, this only made Ron cough violently as a cloud of amber smoke wafted from his mouth and nostrils and hit Harry in the face, complete with the stench of alcohol.  

"Uncouth as always, Mister Weasley," Snape sneered as he too got a large whiff of the smoke.  

"Er, I'll just be off then," Ron said in a high voice as his face turned a very bright red.  

Snape sneered some more at him and said, "Yes, you do that, Weasley.  Stupidity from you is not surprising in the least.  But you," he rounded back towards Harry as Ron made a hasty retreat along with Katie and Stimpson who was long gone.  "You… _you, Potter ought to know better," Snape spat, his glittery black eyes boring into Harry's.  _

"Severus, let's please be civil," Remus said, taking Ron's vacant seat and motioning for Hermione to seat herself.  

But Snape didn't look the least bit enticed by the thought of acting civil.  He was glaring; his lips curled back, and demanded, "Have you drank any, Potter?"

Harry couldn't see what business it was of Snape's, even if he was underage and was about to tell him so when he saw Hermione take in the empty glasses on the table as well as the full glass in his hand, upon which Snape's wand was still trained.  "Oh, Harry.  Where ever did you _get_ that from?"

Snape sneered at her and demanded again, "_Did you drink any?!"_

"No!" Harry said, turning to him and glaring up as Snape towered, standing over him.  "I haven't had any—are you happy?"

"De--lighted," Snape said dryly, his lip curling back grotesquely.  He then leaned in, uncomfortably close to Harry, and in a dangerously low undertone said, "You would be wise, Potter, to refrain from wanton imbibition of beverages that act as sedatives of the mind _unless it is your wish to relinquish what little control you have, by whatever miracle, managed to gain of the waste that is your mind."  Snape pulled back and drew himself upright again, looking down his long hooked nose at Harry with an imperiously raised eyebrow.  "Do I make myself clear, Potter?"_

It was instantly clear to Harry that to allow alcohol to cloud over his mind and senses, he would be weakening the defenses he'd been building around his mind through Occlumency.  Of course it made sense now.  "Yes, sir," Harry muttered, pushing the glass towards the center of the table.  

"Excellent," Snape said curtly.  As Remus made to reach for the glass of top shelf Firewhiskey, Snape waved his wand over it; saying, "_Evanesco_," making the amber liquid disappear in a puff of smoke.  

Remus gave the smirking Snape a dirty look and grumbled sarcastically, "Thanks ever so much." Snape then turned, his robes rustling and, with a final look about the pub, pulled his hood up and over his head and left; leaving Remus to mutter, "_Snivellus."_

"Don't even start," Harry said, holding up a palm towards Hermione who looked like she wanted to say something that would surely have sounded overly righteous and far too supportive of Snape's actions for Harry's liking.  She snapped her mouth shut and, for a moment, looked hurt, making Harry feel very guilty.  "Sorry," he muttered.  "But Ron was the dolt who ordered them and I _told_ him Snape was here and would love to catch us with it."  Harry looked down at his still full tankard of Butterbeer and asked, "You think this is all right to _imbibe_?"

"It's still here, isn't it?" Remus said with a wry look, still obviously miffed at Snape's wanton wasting of perfectly fine Firewhiskey.

"Well, how did you get that stuff in the first place?" Hermione asked, shedding her cloak and hanging it on the back of the barstool.  

"Another round—oh, I see you've swapped your old friends for some new ones," Rosmerta said, stopping again at the table and smiling at Harry.  "Remus," she said, with a long smoldering look at an equally, suddenly smiling Lupin.  "The usual…or something from the bar?" she asked in a low voice.  

Remus gave her a coy look and then seemed to realize Harry and Hermione were watching this interaction with surprisingly amused looks.  "Er, I'll just a…er, "

"Oh no," Harry said, grinning and trying not to laugh.  "Please, Remus—don't let us stop you from your _usual."  Hermione stuffed a fist into her mouth and tried to refrain from laughing outright.  _

Rosmerta, with a hand upon her hip, turned on Harry.  "You think it's funny, do you?  Oh—there's that grin now!"  Her eyes sparkled as she eyed Harry; his grin faltered.  "Give me a minute and I'll have any man in the palm of my hand, you hear?  You wouldn't last half that if I turned my bewitching ways on you, now," she said, raising her eyes suggestively.   Harry felt much more uncomfortable now than when her attention had been on Remus.  She cocked her head towards Hermione and asked, "This one's yours, isn't he now?"

Hermione, eyes still sparkling with mirth and failing miserably to contain her laughter, chirped, "You can borrow him, if you like."

"Hey!" Harry cried, looking incredulously at Hermione.  

They all laughed and Harry finally laughed too after Hermione's foot reached over beneath the table ran up along the inside of his calf.  "Oh, I'm just pulling your leg!" Rosmerta said, nodding at Harry.  She quickly added, "A bit extra if you want anything else pulled," and then asked, "So, what'll it be?"

"I'll have a Butterbeer," Hermione said, still smiling innocently at Harry.

"I could do with a spot of that stew on your specials board," Remus said.  "And a Butterbeer for me, too."

After drinking deeply from his tankard, Harry said, "I could do with some food, too.  I'll have what Remus is having."  He turned to Hermione and asked, "Are you hungry, too?"

"Oh, well, if you both are eating, I might as well."

"Three specials," Rosmerta said.

"And I'll take another Butterbeer," Harry added before taking another drink.  

"Coming right up," Rosmerta said before clearing the table, winking at Remus and leaving them.

"So, what are you doing here?" Harry asked Lupin.

"Watching over the village.  Saw the game last week from beneath one of Moody's Invisibility Cloaks; team's looking well."  

They chatted a bit and throughout their meal as they dunked crusty bread into a hearty venison stew.  The pub was clearing out as time wore into the afternoon.  After yet another round of Butterbeer, Remus sighed and said, "So, I actually did mean to meet up with you today, Harry."

"Oh?  Why's that?  I just saw you last night," Harry said.

Remus fingered a coaster on the table and said, "Well, it's the holidays in just over a week and there are a few decisions to be made…for the Celebration…if you still feel ready to have it then?"

_Sirius' Celebration… "Oh, I almost forgot," Harry said.  "Right, no, I think we should have it.  You think so too, right?"_

Remus shook his head and said, "As long as you're ready. Harry."

"But you're ready, too?" Harry persisted.  He wasn't thick enough to think Remus hadn't mourned the loss of Sirius just as much as he had.  

"I am," Remus said, closing his eyes for a second and then nodded resolutely.  "You?" he asked, looking closely at Harry.

"I am."  Formally bringing a close to the mourning of Sirius' death was appealing to Harry now, as it seemed to be a chance for a tangible step forward and away from the past.  Sirius' death marked a turning point in Harry's life; it was an abrupt end to what little bit of innocence and childhood Harry had had and signified the point where the veil of innocence had been torn away, leaving reality exposed in all its harsh light.   Closing the door to this past life seemed like a way for him to formally accept the steep and narrow path placed before him.  He was ready to choose to move on.

"Well, then the big thing to decide is where to hold it," Remus said, looking at Hermione and then Harry again.  "Hogwarts or Headquarters?  Albus told me they started taking names for those staying over the hols yesterday and thus far, not many are staying.  It's up to you."

Harry looked at Hermione and knew in an instant that he longed to be in his sprawling four-poster that was back at Grimmauld Place where he knew Hermione would be able to sleep beside him each night.  If anything made him feel he was thankful for everything Sirius had ever given him, it was the thought of the chance he and Hermione had the past summer to become close and to, well, to certainly become more than the best of friends.  Hermione was belying no opinion outwardly but as he looked into the warmth of her eyes, he knew she understood his desires.  

"Headquarters," he said quietly.  _I want to go home, he thought as he looked at Hermione.  Home, for reasons of safety and technicalities was supposedly Privet Drive.  Home in his mind was almost always Hogwarts, but no place—not even Grimmauld Place—was home in his heart.  That distinction was not a place at all but was simply wherever Hermione was.  "You'll be coming, too?" he asked her._

She smiled sadly and looked down as she said, "I have nowhere else to go."  Hermione's house had been destroyed and her parents were off in some unknown location for their own safety and her peace of mind.  "I'll go wherever you go," she said, meeting Harry's gaze steadily and making his heart skip a beat.

"Well then," Remus said, clearing his voice.  "I'm sure Albus will want you to at least sign up to stay at the castle.  You'll probably leave—Apparate, if you still recall how—the day after the train leaves."

"Oh!" Hermione said, clapping and looked thrilled.  "I can go get my Apparition License in London!"  

"If Albus says it's all right," Remus stipulated.  Hermione gave a look like he'd better or else.  "I'm sure he'll say yes, but you might mention it to Dobby that we intend to hold it there.  Winky is still at Headquarters but he still pops in and out every now and then.  He'll follow wherever you're going, Harry.  Albus said he'd help to arrange everything.  I'll send out the announcements.  Most anyone who would come is in the Order or related.  Is there anyone else you thought to invite?"

"Er," Harry thought.  "Well, Neville did say he'd come.  Ginny told him and Luna about…about who had died."  Harry had lowered his voice as a group of warlocks entered the pub and, laughing uproariously, sauntered up to the bar.  

Remus nodded.  Hermione asked, "Luna, too?"  

"Sure."

"All right.  I'm guessing we'll set it a few days after Christmas.  That it?" Remus asked.  That was all Harry could think of.  "All right, then.  Albus said he gave you a book on these things?"  Harry nodded.  "Well, it's formal—dress robes and it is a celebration so don't think you _have_ to wear all black."

"Oh, I'll need new ones," Hermione said, checking her watch.  "We can still go to Gladrags today."

"One more thing," Remus said, nodding to Harry.  "It's custom for members of the Order to have a traditional lighting.  Fawkes will give a feather.  You'll be the one to light it.  Have you read about it?"  

It'd been a while since Harry had read about it but he recalled that Celebrations were started with the lighting of a Life Light that would burn throughout the gathering.  The tradition originated with a freshly rendered Phoenix feather being ignited by the deceased's closest kin to fuel the light.  Harry nodded to Remus and knew he'd have to read up some more on what went on at Celebrations.  

"Well, that's my business," Remus said, sighing and draining the last of his Butterbeer.  "Anything else either of you need?"

"Oh, there was one thing I never got around to asking last night.  I haven't heard anything in a couple of weeks."  Harry looked around over his shoulder to make sure no one was near.  "Is there any word on Neville's parents?  Anything?  Any leads on why they took them?"

Lupin frowned.  "Harry…we'd tell you as soon as we found out anything.  The reason why--it could be any number of reasons."

"But they're not dead.  They'd have sent back their bodies if they were, wouldn't they?"  Harry looked like he just wanted Remus to agree with him.  

"Harry, we may never know…"

"What kind of answer is that?  Remus—they only took them because they were defenceless and to get at me."   Hermione grasped Harry's hand and gave it a squeeze.  Probably, he thought, to shush him as much as to give him moral support.

"And doesn't it irk you even more not knowing what has happened to them and where they are?" Remus asked, his eyes widened meaningfully.   "Harry, we may never know and I'm very sorry—it nags at me, too—but you may just have to accept that we may never know."

"Unacceptable," Harry grumbled.  He looked plaintively at Hermione and Remus.  "Neville's been so withdrawn since it happened.  No, I know—he's always been a bit withdrawn, but…it must be _awful_… not knowing…"  Harry couldn't imagine having to live with that.

They parted then as they left the Three Broomsticks and Harry and Hermione headed up the High Street to visit Gladrags Wizardwear.  The snow was still swirling and they passed a group of Gryffindor third years that were having a snowball fight in the middle of the road.  Past the Post Office where Aurors still patrolled the front entrance and Dervish & Banges which had a sign in the front window that read, "SELF-DEFENSE PRIMERS: HOLIDAY SPECIAL", they finally arrived at Gladrags.

"What are you looking for, m'dears?" a petite lady with pins stuck in her robe lapel asked as they looked about the shop.  

"Dress robes," Hermione said.  "Do you need new robes, too?" she asked Harry.  

"I suppose," Harry said uncertainly.  "Wouldn't hurt and my old ones must be far too short by now."

"Nathaniel!  Get out here!" she bellowed towards the back of the shop and then turned back to smile warmly at them.  "Step on up here, dears."  She gestured to a pair of platforms in front of several mirrors all facing the center of each platform.  

A waifish man who walked with a saunter came out and started clucking his tongue and measuring Harry as the petite woman took measurements of Hermione.   After much muttering between the two and several minutes of measurements, they left and each came back, parading a line of robes before them.  

"These are the ones in your size," Nathaniel said with a bit of a lisp.  "See anything you like?" he said, flipping his wand at each in turn, causing them to jump up in front of Harry, allowing him a look in the mirrors as the robes were each held in front of him for a brief moment.  It seemed like forever but finally he'd narrowed it down to just a few.  Harry thought Nathaniel might have been getting frustrated with him but quite contrary; he seemed to enjoy giving Harry his opinion.  "The green is a lovely color and matches your eyes, of course," he said in a way that made Harry think he might be enjoying this just a tad too much.  

Hermione snickered from over on her platform and Harry turned to see her holding a deep crimson robe to her chest, turning left then right to gauge the reflection in the mirror.  She saw Harry looking at her and caught his eye.  "What do you think?"

All Harry knew was she had a pair of knickers in that exact same color and he liked those very much.  He thought anything that matched those particular knickers was just fine with him.  He nodded.  

"Go try it on for size, m'dear," the woman directed, shooing Hermione off the platform and into a changing room.  She turned to Harry then and eyed him up and down.  "Oh not the blue, dear.  No, the green or the black—yes." She yanked a deep sapphire and silver trimmed robe from the three parading in front of him and Banished it to the back.  Harry was a little disappointed, as that particular blue had reminded him of the color of Sirius' eyes.  

But before he could comment to bring them back, Hermione stepped out of the dressing room and took away his ability for coherent speech and thought.  _Red… tight…. cleavage… red… squeezing…  They first thought Harry pulled together was to wonder if he was drooling.  "I take that as a yes?" Hermione asked him, her eyes sparkling as she watched him snap his jaw shut and nod dumbly.  _

Settling back down to reality Harry looked down and snapped, "Why are you measuring my inseam again?  Robes don't even _have inseams!"  Nathaniel desisted at once and smirked as he handed Harry the black brocade robes once more.  _

Eventually, without Nathaniel's help, Hermione helped Harry choose the black robes but with the addition of red and gold detailed trim.  It was a good hour they spent in the shop before they were finally able to leave with their bags swinging.

"That bloke was bit on the…" Harry shook his head, trying to find the right word.

"Touchy?" Hermione offered.

"Feely," Harry added, nodding.  He shuddered and then shrugged off the thought.  "You get all your Christmas shopping done?" he asked as they walked back down the High Street.

Hermione's smile faltered at this and she shrugged.  "I guess."  At Harry's questioning look, she explained, "I don't have many people to buy for this year.  I don't know if I should get Ron anything—I did, but who knows if he'll still be tolerating me by then.  My parents aren't going to be around and I can't send anything to them.  Hagrid's not even around this Christmas and well, that just leaves you—oh!  Dobby and Winky, too!  And Remus!  I should get him something."  Harry smiled at Hermione; she looked like she wanted to make a list right there.  "Come on—let's go into Scrivenshafts!"

Two hours later they had both completed just about all the shopping for gifts they had to do and Harry had mentally catalogued at least a dozen gift possibilities for Hermione as she had commented on this or that.  After leaving the new shop for Quality Quidditch Supplies: Hogsmeade, where Harry had bought Ron a new Broomstick Servicing Kit, they finally decided they were tired enough to head back.  

"So, tell me again, why did you buy Professor Dumbledore a pair of woollen socks?" Hermione asked, holding her one bag that contained several other shrunken bags within in one hand as the other flipped her hood over her head.  

"Oh, back when—" Harry stopped, listening.  He could have sworn he'd just heard the crack of someone Apparating.  But, he chided himself, it was village of all Wizarding folk; of course there were people Apparating left and right.  He began to walk again, Hermione giving him a questioning look that he shrugged off.  "What was I saying?" he asked.

"Look—" said Hermione stopping this time and pointing down the same side street he'd seen Snape down earlier.  The hulking form of Crabbe could be seen down the street, shuffling his feet in the snow and looking down at the ground.  Then right before their eyes, two other wizards Apparated in with _cracks_! Just like Harry had thought he'd heard before.  

Harry grabbed Hermione's arm and started them walking past the side street at once, but not before they heard Draco Malfoy's drawling voice proclaim, "Well that was easier than I thought it'd be!"  

"Keep walking," Harry mumbled to Hermione, trying to steer her further from the street.  

"Even if they saw us, our hoods are up and they can't tell," she said.  "Let's look in this window."  She steered Harry now to a storefront window at the corner and feigned interest in a display of sparkling pendants and glittering rings.  Harry, meanwhile, dug into an inner pocket of his robes and felt around for a rubbery Extendable Ear.  

"How much did it cost?" they heard Crabbe grunt out as the voices neared the corner where Harry and Hermione were peering into the window.  

"More than it should have!" an enraged Malfoy said.  "If Father was around that flea-bag wouldn't have dared charge me half as much as he did!" 

"Didn't you use those disappearing Sickles, though?" another voice asked.  Harry was almost positive it was Nott.  Harry fingered the Extendable Ear in his hand; there was no need to use it now while they were so close and easily overheard.  

"Of course!  Imbecile."  Malfoy chuckled smugly as the three of them came around the corner.  Hermione tugged Harry's elbow to keep him from looking at them and giving them away.  

The three Slytherins passed without any acknowledgement of the couple peering into a jeweller's shop window.  As they walked past and continued down the street, Harry tugged Hermione and motioned for them to follow along.  He showed her the Extendable Ear in his palm and let the end of the Ear slink to the ground, urging it to snake forward and through the snow.  As they walked about ten meters behind the three, Harry held the other end of the Ear up to his own ear and waited to hear something.  

"…be stewing.  And the full moon is the only thing holding us back.  They were all out of fluxweed for this cycle," Malfoy said, sounding like he was just discussing a Potions project.  

"Hey," Nott said.  "Depending on who we get first—maybe we can use that to get a whole load of the other to stock up on!  Now that would be something to write home about!"  

Malfoy laughed, clearly enjoying this thought and said, "Yes, I daresay I will _love_ to be there when---"  The connection suddenly broke off and Harry looked up.

"Hey!  There you two are!" Ron called.  He was standing right in front of Harry and, as Harry tugged the Ear up, he saw the long end had broken off right about where Ron was standing.

"_Damn—you—Ron!_" Harry bit out, balling his fists and grinding his teeth.  He'd just been about to hear what Malfoy was planning and Ron, the big dolt, went and crushed the blasted Ear with his overly large feet!  

"Shhh," Hermione said, trying to calm Harry down.  "Malfoy just turned and has seen us," she warned.  

Harry was still hopping with frustration and tried to play it off, starting slowly and saying, "Damn it, Ron—you're—not—supposed—to see your gift before Christmas!"  Ron looked highly confused and still a little hurt at Harry's initial outburst.  Over his shoulder, Harry could see Malfoy glaring back at them and then whispering and laughing with his two followers. 

"Hey, Potter!" Malfoy called out, elbowing his cronies to watch.  "Did you buy Weasel a floor for their hovel?  I heard they live in a dirt-floor hut, deep underground!"  Crabbe guffawed stupidly at this and Nott looked on coolly, half-hidden behind the hulking Crabbe.

Harry and Hermione each took hold of one of Ron's arms and held him in place as his face reddened and he looked about ready to explode.  

"Hey, Malfoy!" Harry called back, keeping a tight grip on Ron.  "Why don't you crawl back into your dungeon and under a rock?  If you wait long enough, maybe you'll evolve into something half-human!"  

"What?  Like your Werewolf pet or that oaf Hagrid?" Malfoy said and then cackled.  

Harry had his wand pulled in a flash.  He so wanted to hex Malfoy into the ground—hell, he wanted to break the pointy-faced ferret's stuck up nose with his bare fists!  A sudden Apparition in between he and Malfoy though, caused Harry to step in front of Ron and Hermione.  In an instant, his wand was raised and ready for anything.  The dark-cloaked figure could have been anyone but as he lowered his hood, Harry recognized the grey hair of Lupin.  

Harry, with Ron and Hermione following closely behind, advanced close enough to hear Lupin say in a barely controlled voice, "You'd be wise, Mister Malfoy to respect a man who would just as well rip out your throat with his bare teeth."  Harry could see Malfoy's look of surprise and fear.  Nott was already backing up.  "And that's not even how I feel on the full moon."  As Harry came shoulder to shoulder with Lupin, he saw his teeth bared and a flame-like flickering deep in his amber eyes that made even Harry want to shudder.  

"Getting late!  Students head back to the castle!" Professor Flitwick called out, stepping out from one of the shops.  "Oh!" he stopped at the sight of Harry, Remus, Hermione and a shaking Ron facing off against Malfoy as his two Slytherins.  "Is there a problem here, boys?" he asked, melting away a path in the snow with his wand.

An Auror in gold robes strolled through then and Harry recognized her as one of Tonks' recruits who was in the Order.  She gave a discreet nod to Harry and said, "Professor Flitwick, we'll help you round up the students."  

"Oh, thank you!" Flitwick said as Malfoy sneered at the convenient assembly of adults.  

Malfoy turned and beckoned Crabbe and Nott to follow, throwing one last superior look at Harry and his friends.  

"You three should catch a carriage," Remus said, looking deeply embarrassed and, if Harry wasn't mistake, very ashamed of his own actions.  

With a hand on his shoulder, Harry said, "Thank you, Remus."  

Remus, looked up, grateful and then, looking eye-to-eye with Harry, said, "When did you get to be as tall as me?"

Hermione, still linking one arm through Ron's and now taking Harry's, grinned at Remus and whispered, "You should ask what his inseam is.  He had it measured only a dozen times this afternoon!"

"Shut it, you," Harry growled at her.  She only grinned back cheekily.  

The ride back to the castle was filled with Ron's howls as Hermione told him about Harry's enthusiastic salesman from Gladrags.  They also told him about the plan to hold the Celebration for Sirius over the Christmas hols and Ron was almost ecstatic he'd be able to wear his new dress robes that had yet to see use.  

"Hey, what were you listening to on that Extendable Ear?" Ron asked, snapping off the end of a liquorice rope.  "Was it Malfoy?"

Hermione mirrored Ron's inquiring look and Harry said, "Not much."  He was still a bit bitter about it now that he was reminded and he looked sourly at Ron.  "You snapped off the end of the Ear—must have been too brittle in the cold—right before I could hear whatever it was Malfoy is looking forward to."  Ron looked mortified that he'd inadvertently screwed up the chance to spy on Malfoy.  "They were talking about what sounded like some Potions project or something.  Something about buying fluxweed and the full moon holding them back."

"Oh, fluxweed properties vary greatly with the phase of the moon at the time of its harvesting," Hermione said.  She furrowed her brow then and worried her lower lip before saying, "But, Harry…Crabbe and Nott—neither of those two are in Potions any longer."  Hermione looked steadily out the window then and Harry knew she'd be heading to the library as soon as they returned to the castle.  He was quite sure she'd be researching all the possible uses of fluxweed.  

"Where did you guys see them?" Ron asked.  "Harry, was that the same street we saw Snape skulking about?"

"You saw Snape down there earlier?" Hermione asked, her attention focused back inside the carriage.  

"Yeah," Ron answered.  "He was skulking about some old Apothecary shop.  Harry didn't even want to bother checking out what he was doing.  But see?  I bet he was helping Malfoy do whatever he was up to.  Maybe he's the one who's selling stuff to Malfoy!" Ron said, nodding vigorously. 

"I don't know Ron," Harry said.  The fact he was now defending Snape to Ron was not lost on Harry and he felt a small horror at the realization.  "Snape could have been following Malfoy to keep an eye on him.  We saw Malfoy and Nott reappear after Apparating back down the street.  And just before that, I know I heard someone else Apparate in."  

"Or Disapparate," Hermione said.

Harry frowned.  "I guess.  Well, there's only one thing I can really do now."

"Do you want to sneak into the Slytherin Common Room again?" Ron asked hopefully.  "We could take Polyjuice again and spy on them some more!"

"No," Harry was shaking his head.  "No, I'll tell Dumbledore what I heard.  He'll tell Snape and he can—"

"Harry!" Ron said, looking stricken.  "Are you _mad_?!  Snape is helping them!"

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione said exasperatedly.  "When have we _ever been right about Snape?  He's a member of the Order and very trusted by everyone!  There is no reason!"_

"Suit yourself," Ron said sullenly, crossing his arms and staring out the window as they pulled up the castle.  "But a git like him doesn't need a reason."

The last week in December before holidays passed in a blur with the mounting restlessness of the students.   Pranks and fireworks were growing more and more common in the castle hallways as holiday spirits rose.  Hermione had never even gotten in trouble for ditching her turn to decorate the castle as a Prefect because Neville said he had Luna help and cover for her.  

After conducting the mid-term exam for his third year Defense students, Harry let them have the last class before break to square off against him and cast all the spells for practical defense that he'd taught them.  It was a lot of fun for all of them and Orla Quirke had even managed to cast a Shield Charm that effectively blocked a Jelly Legs Jinx he threw at her.  The Slytherins in the class, most especially the boys who had initially been stand-offish and cool to Harry when the year had began, were now pompous at worst but still respectful of him.  Being able to dock House points from them whenever they'd insulted a classmate seemed to quickly convince them they ought to save those comments for when they were alone in some corridor.  

Just before the bell rang, Harry announced, "Excellent work everyone.  You've earned two points a piece for every properly executed spell."  Orla was exceedingly thrilled at this as she had mastered all but two of the spells.  (Despite having been introduced and instructed on the Patronus Charm in both this class and in their Charms class, none had mastered the conjuring of a corporeal one yet.)  "After you return from break, we shall begin work on some much darker creatures, including an introduction to a Dementor and its effects.  I'll have something ready to simulate one here in class and you will all get the chance to experience its effects."  The bell to signal the end of class rang then and Harry called out as they began to pack up, "No homework!  Have a good holiday!"

He was done; the last class of the day before break.  As the year had worn on it had become increasingly difficult to find time to himself, much less time when he could coax Hermione away from her work.   He was looking ever so forward to almost three whole weeks at Grimmauld Place with her.  

~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~          *          

REMINDER:  You can find chapter files, a discussion forum, and other dedicated and outrageously Potter-obsessed readers at my Yahoo group for this fic.  There is a link on my bio page to the group.  The Yahoo group name is: HP_AoF.  Cheers!


	36. Chapter 39 Home with Hermione

**WARNING**: Things of a sexual nature abound in this chapter.  Here, on FF.net, this is the edited version of this chapter to protect those with innocence and virtue.  (Bah, that's no way to live, though!)  A-hem, anyway, if you want the smut, go to my Yahoo group and find the smutty version there for your pleasure and enjoyment.  The link to my Yahoo group is on my biopage.    Oh, and the removed scene is indicated by *#*#*#*.  Cheers!

Chapter 39. Home with Hermione 

The arrival back to Grimmauld Place was met with a rush of euphoria at knowing Harry no longer had to think twice about who might be watching him and knowing he wouldn't have to battle Hermione's revision schedules, late-night lingering students, Filch or Mrs. Norris any time he fancied a spot of time with her.  Because they'd long ago been given the coordinates for the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, they were able to Apparate directly from Hogsmeade and into its Entry Hall.  Harry arrived just moments before Hermione and as soon as he heard the _pop!_ indicating her arrival and saw her wild mane of hair appear before him, he dove at her; capturing her mouth with his and finding the nearest wall to help support her body as he crushed his against hers.  

One hand fisted in her hair while the other held her hip firmly against his.  His tongue, he couldn't thrust deep enough into her mouth; trying to feel her, taste her, _consume_ her.  The hand on her hip, wanted more and he gathered up her skirt (which he intended to thank her profusely for wearing), tugging it upwards so his palm could feel the smoothness of her upper thigh.  Up, he slid his hand and around to cup her bottom; it was just the most perfect size.  Perfectly palm-sized for him, that was.  Squeezing he vaguely noted the smooth satin of her knickers and tried to place the memory of just which ones these were.  _It'd be much, much easier to tell if they were laying upon the floor_, he mused with surging arousal.  

"Do you know what I want to do to you?" he rasped as he finally relinquished control of her mouth.  He needed to taste more.  His lips trailed hungrily down her jaw and neck.  _Not enough exposed_.  His nipped the collar of her blouse with his teeth and tugged it open wider to expose her delectable throat.  He lingered, admiring the way her throat seemed to be offered to him as she arched backwards into the doorframe she was crushed up against.  

_Now, back to those knickers..._ He took her unclaimed neck and delighted in the silken feel of her soft skin beneath his lips as he slid one hand around from her bottom, along her waistband, gliding over the wondrous curve where hip, thigh and stomach all converge, and to the front where-- _I knew it!  _He felt himself grin against her throat.  His fingers rolled around the tiny fabric nub in the very center of her waistband.  The lacy panel beneath it confirmed his suspicions (and hopes) that these were indeed his most favorite of all the knickers he'd ever had the pleasure to slide off of her.  _Red_.  _And they're blocking my way_.

"God, I want you," he could only growl out, just barely pulling his hand back before his lower half decided to thrust itself forward in a demand for more contact.

"You know...," an amused voice said from behind him.  "The mistletoe is actually only over there." Through some instinctual schoolboy reflex, Harry quickly and discretely smoothed down Hermione's skirt—he would never want anyone but him to see her looking so utterly debauched--before pulling away...slightly.  _Where the blast is a robe when you need one?_  

"Hello, Remus," Hermione said, making Harry wonder how she could always manage to compose herself ever so quickly. 

"Hermione!  I could barely see you there!  Welcome!  Glad to see you both made it all right.  Wasn't sure, er, when you would...arrive.  You all right there, Harry?  You seem to be looking a bit peaked."

_If I hit him with a blinding hex, he'd never see my second smirk-wiping hex coming..._.  "Oh, he might still be bit miffed at Snape.  Remember Harry?  Remember Snape?"  _Snape?  How the hell can she kiss me and then even allow the word Snape to cross those very same lips?!_ "He was the one sent to trail us into Hogsmeade and make sure we Disapparated okay."

_Snape, that git..._  "That _git_ has been lurking around every corner the past week," Harry grumbled.  "You'd think that git's trying to dog _my_ steps and not his own Slytherins!"  The past week, ever since Harry figured Dumbledore had passed forth Harry's report of Malfoy's sneaking about Hogsmeade, Snape had turned up every time Harry came around a corner.  

Remus still looked amused and asked, "And you're sure you weren't just perhaps looking over your shoulder an awful lot to make sure no one was watching if you just happened to drop a few Dungbombs on some of the castle's more lower levels?" 

"Entirely beside the point," Harry said, straightening his glasses and running a hand through his hair.  

Remus smiled; he was in an unusually good mood, Harry noted.  "Well, you're here now and I have something for you to do, Harry.  Come on up to the drawing room."  

*

*

The Drawing Room was already hung with pine boughs, twinkling fairy lights and a freshly fragrant tree stood across the room.  Harry saw Hermione echo his deep inhale of breath as they entered the room; delighting in the rich pine scent.  The tall tree was bare with naught but even a light on it and stood blocking the last remnant of the house of Black; the Black family tapestry.  

"Dung just brought that in this morning." Remus said.  "I had to stop Dobby from decorating it by telling him you two might want to have some of the fun.  Over here, Harry," Remus said as he then walked over to the table on the far side of the room and gestured at a stack of parchments.  "These are the announcements for the Celebration.  It's set for one week from today and if we send them out this afternoon, that'll be in just enough time.  As you're the host, Harry, I thought you might sign them."  Remus seated himself, gesturing for Harry and Hermione to each do the same.  "It'll only take a half hour or so.  We can help roll them and then I'll get them sent out.  Then you two can, er, _settle_ in."

Harry sent Remus an unamused look and picked up one of the creamy golden hued parchments and read the flowing scarlet script for the announcement.

~~~~~

You are cordially invited to 

Celebrate 

The life and memory of 

Sirius Orion Black

_~~~~~~~~~_

_~Strength ~ Courage ~ Honour ~ Love ~ Loyalty_ ~

_~~~_

The Celebration shall commence at the afternoon hour of six o'clock 

On the twenty-seventh day of December 

In the year of our Lord, nineteen hundred and ninety-six

At the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix

~~~

Your Host, 

Harry felt truly excited for the impending Celebration for the first time and found himself appreciating the idea of people no longer pausing awkwardly after any mention of Sirius.  He wanted to do this; to do this for Sirius.  Sirius deserved to be remembered for his fine qualities and for his perseverance through hardship and wrongs.  

"They're lovely," Hermione said, a bit too tentatively; making Harry look at her questioningly.  "Well, but how can we send these out?  Isn't it...rather _sensitive_ information?  If someone were to read it..."

"They could only be the person whom Harry intended to read it," Remus said.  "Or so I'm told.  Here," he said as he leaned over and pulled up a rich wooden box from the seat of the chair beside him.  Remus placed what looked to Harry like a jewellery box onto the table and slid it across to Harry.  "Albus sent Fawkes here with this just before you both arrived."  Remus looked at them both and smiled, saying, "Neither of you have ever been away from home where you had to receive field messages—somewhere where you can't use the cauldrons.  Actually, all communications used to come with this before the cauldron post was set up just a year or so after we had all joined the Order.   Go on and open it," he urged.  "I've never actually seen this in person.  I imagine Albus included some specific instructions for you inside the box.  My note only said to give it to you to complete the invitations."

Harry lifted the deep mahogany wooden lid and revealed the contents of the box.  On a pillow of crimson velvet, lay a large golden hand seal.  It was tall and the round seal was twice as large as a Galleon.  Harry turned it over to see the seal and found a very detailed and extremely life-like image of a scarlet and gold Phoenix hovering in flight with two long crossed phoenix feathers gripped in its talons.  The border of the seal read, "The Order of the Phoenix."  The image was sparkling and moving and Harry watched it, amazed.  Suddenly, the two crossed feathers burst into flame, which then flared as the phoenix caught fire and seemed to dissolve.  Harry continued to watch; he could hear Hermione's awed sigh as she watched the image then transform from flurrying ashes into a reborn phoenix.

Remus, who'd been watching as he leaned over the table, said, "That's what the seal, when it's used, will look like, too.  Read the note."  He gestured to a small rolled up note in the box, beside the pillow.  

_Harry_, Dumbledore's looping script read.  _This is the seal of the Order, as you might have already guessed.  Beneath the pillow is a Phoenix feather quill that, together with this seal, are enchanted_.  Harry lifted the pillow in the box and saw beneath it, a large scarlet feather with shimmering gold tips and an ornate golden nib.  "A Phoenix feather," Hermione breathed out in awe.  _To use these, simply use this quill to write the name of the only person or persons you wish to be able to read the parchment on the outside of the scroll.  Use the seal to secure the scroll and then tap the seal with the feather.  None but the designated recipient shall be able to read the name on the scroll, its contents or to even open the scroll.  This is the only seal there is and I think it is time you learned to use it.  I shall see you soon.  Enjoy your holiday.  ~AD_

Harry let Remus and Hermione read the note and rolled the magnificent quill in his hand.  It was the largest and yet the lightest feather quill he'd ever held.  "May I?" Hermione asked after reading the note.  He handed her the quill and watched her marvel over it.  "It's a very powerful magical object.  The phoenix is one of the most powerfully magical creatures there is.  I've never seen a phoenix feather quill," she said, handing it back to Harry.

"Well, it'd be a bit of a waste, wouldn't it?" Harry said.  "They're probably most prized as wand cores.  I imagine a quill is a bit of a waste for one.  But that must be where the enchantment gets its strength from—the feather.  Hmm."  The feather had a golden radiance to it that made it almost appear to glow.

Remus nodded at the parchments to be signed and addressed.  "Well, let's get these done then.  Since it's a formal event, I'll take them into Diagon Alley and send them out via owl post.  Here's the invite list, Harry.  You sign and address.  We'll roll and then you can seal them."

At first, Harry had looked in the box for a bottle of ink, but Hermione suggested it might be a self-inking quill so he just tried to write with it.  It turned out that it did not indeed need any ink and that the writing actually came out looking like liquid flames; it shimmered with a golden ink that flickered as if tiny red flames burned within it.  It was by far the coolest ink Harry had ever seen and he kept grinning and marvelling at it as he signed and addressed the announcements.  

Until, that is, he got to one name down on the list, which made his jaw drop.  "Severus Snape?" Harry said incredulously as pulled the invite list from off the table to glare at it.  There, on the invite list written by Dumbledore himself, was the name of Sirius' most bitter and hated enemy.  "Is Dumbledore mad?" Harry asked, blinking, hoping the name would just disappear from the list if he stared at it long enough.  

Remus just pursed his lips and looked at the list like it was betraying them all by just being there.  "Well," Hermione said, trying to sound reasonable.  "He is a member of the Order.  Every single member who served in the Order with Sirius has been invited.  You can't very well just leave one out, can you?"

"You can if he tried his best to get Sirius kissed by Dementors," Harry said darkly.  

"Well, perhaps he might wish to make amends or...or, even to apologize!" Hermione said desperately.   She was fairly certain Harry would just as soon 'overlook' this one name and if he did, Remus didn't appear to be apt to protest.  Harry gave her a look that clearly said she wasn't very convincing.  "Well," she snapped.  "Just because you send him an announcement does not mean he will attend.  You might even tick him off to send him one."  This tactic worked much better and Harry hesitated only a moment before addressing the parchment.  Another half dozen and he was almost finished.  

"How about the Weasleys?" Harry asked, scratching his head.  "Is Charlie home for the holidays or should he get a separate one since he might be in Romania?  Does Bill live at the Burrow right now?  Should I just send one to 'Weasley Family'?"  It seemed a bit wasteful to send a separate announcement to each and every member of the large family.  

Remus frowned and also scratched his head.  "Bill definitely does not live at the Burrow—haven't you ever heard Molly go on and on about him being lonely in the flat he has here in London?"  Remus snorted.  "He's far from lonely, I'll tell you that.  But I do think Charlie is coming home for the holidays, last I heard."

"What about Percy?" Hermione asked.

"What about Percy?" Harry snapped, facing her sharply.  

Hermione ignored his tone and explained, "Well you can't just address the announcement to the entire family—what if he were to stop by somehow and read it?   He's one of the last people whose hands you'd want this information to fall into right now.  I'm for sending a separate one to each person.  It's much more formal and everyone likes to get post.  All except for the twins' and Bill's can be sent together to the Burrow.  But best to be safe and address them individually," she said decisively.

Remus nodded.  "She's got a point."

Harry quickly addressed the last of the announcements to be sent to the Weasley family and then moved on to light a sealing wax candle. Hermione and Remus took turns dripping the wax onto the rolled scrolls and holding them out for Harry to seal with the Order of the Phoenix crest.  Finally, he tapped each seal with the tip of the phoenix feather quill and Hermione nodded as each addressee's name disappeared from her view.  "What's left to be arranged for the Celebration?" she asked Remus watching over Harry's shoulder.  

"Best to ask Dobby about that," Remus said, taking the completed scrolls and stacking them.  "He's been the little tyrant since he showed up a few days ago.  Whatever did you ask him to do, Harry, when you talked to him at Hogwarts?"

Harry smiled wryly as he tapped the last announcement (Ron's) and said, "I barely asked him to do anything.  I showed up after dinner one night in the kitchens and told him there was going to be a Celebration here for Sirius and he practically bounced off the walls and burst with delight."  Harry shook his head at the memory.  "He was most emphatic that I should not worry about a thing."

"Oh, but we should still see if there's anything else we can do to help," Hermione said.  "I haven't seen Winky since we left in September."

"Well," Remus said, gathering up the scrolls and putting them into a bag.  "You two go see Winky and the Little Tyrant and I'll go send these off.  Here," he gestured to the scrolls for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny and Charlie that he had left out.  "You can send these with Hedwig."

Harry picked them up and he and Hermione walked Remus down the stairs.  "Will the post owls know who to deliver those to?" Harry asked.  

"So Dumbledore says," Remus said, shrugging.  "Owls don't really need us to tell them where to go; they're rather brilliant creatures."  

As if to prove his point, Hedwig then flew over and landed on Harry's shoulder, sticking her leg out and gesturing with her head towards the Weasleys' scrolls in his hands.  Harry laughed and said, "Well, I won't argue with that."

*

*

In the basement kitchen, Harry and Hermione found Dobby and Winky listing off and checking the inventory of the pantry's stocks and supplies.  Winky seemed elated to have more people back in the house and reminded Harry of Mrs. Weasley as she prepared heaping plates of food for them and insisted they eat.  

"But, it's barely noon," Harry protested as Winky led him to the long wooden table by tugging on his trouser leg.  

"You is eating, Master Harry," she said sternly.  "Hogwarts elves is preparing food for everyone.  I is preparing food for just you.  Eat!"  

A loud yawn from the blazing hearth drew their attention then.  "Fang!" Harry said as Hagrid's enormous black boarhound lazily padded over and looked up at the plates upon the table longingly.  "So this is where you're keeping company, eh?" Harry scratched behind his ears and tried to avoid a stream of slobber that was hanging from one side of his mouth.

"Hagrid must have asked Remus to keep him here while he's gone," Hermione said, looking fondly at the beloved companion of their largest friend.   

"Oh yes," Dobby said, nodding.  "Dobby knows Hagrid and his Grawp had to leave for Professor Dumbledore!  They is looking for more," Dobby shuddered, "_giants_!  But Dobby knows it's better that we be friends with giants than He-who-must-not-be-named."  He nodded emphatically, his ears flapping.  

"Are you missing Hagrid, Fang?" Harry asked, still scratching his enormous head.  Fang whined and rubbed his head against Harry's leg, almost pushing Harry out of his seat.  "Yeah, he probably misses you, too."

Hermione snorted.  "No offense to Fang, but I doubt it.  I'm sure Hagrid is in heaven right about now."   They had received world from Hagrid the past week that he and Grawp had met up with one of the dragon-keepers from the Norwegian Reserve who had agreed to be their guide.  To reach the remote area that was known to be home to some giants, they had to pass through the Norwegian Ridgeback Dragon Reserve.  Since it was almost Christmas, their guide had asked if they would mind staying at the reserve camp for a week before moving out.  Obviously, Hagrid had been delighted.  "Dobby," Hermione said, trying to crane her neck and get a look at the long list in his tiny hands.  "Tell us what we can do to help prepare?"

Dobby began to twist one ear nervously and said, "Oh, no!  We is managing!  You and Harry Potter shall relax and enjoy your holidays!"  

"But there must be something," Hermione persisted hopefully.

"Didn't Remus say there was the tree in the Drawing Room to be trimmed?" Harry asked.  "I've never trimmed a tree before."

"Never?" Hermione asked.  

Harry shrugged.  "Never.  But it looked like fun."  Christmases at the Dursleys had been bittersweet for Harry when he had been young.  The festive decorations, twinkling lights and merry tunes of the season were always enjoyable.  But the fact that he had always been forced to watch from afar (or even to just listen from within his cupboard) as the rest of the family exchanged gifts and delighted in rich cakes and treats only served to make Harry feel even more like an unwanted outsider at Number Four.  He'd been made to lug trimmings to and from the attic storage but it had always been his aunt who'd painstakingly arranged each and every ornament with scripted precision.  

At the prospect of giving Harry the opportunity to do something fun, Dobby bounced around and _popped_ away, saying he would fetch the boxes of ornaments and put them in the Drawing Room.  After Winky allowed them to leave (after a second helping and a heaping serving of chocolate mousse trifle), Harry and Hermione headed up from the kitchen with the full intent to trim the tree in the Drawing Room.  However, the mistletoe hung directly above the grand sweeping staircase at the base of the entry hall, caused them to have to pause—it was after all, tradition.  

"Perhaps," Hermione breathed out, stilling kissing Harry.  "Perhaps," _kiss_, "we ought to make sure," _kiss_, "our stuff arrived—oh," _kiss_, "in, o-our rooms?"  

Harry refocused his eyes on Hermione and leaned his forehead against hers.  She really was clever, he thought.  "That sounds like an excellent idea.  We could make sure my bed's still there."  He led her up two flights of stairs then and, pausing on each landing for yet another kiss, they finally made it to the top level.  

Walking backwards and leading Hermione by both hands, Harry led her down the hall to their rooms.  "Oh, here's my room," she said, tugging on Harry's hands to pause for a moment.  As he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, she pushed open the door and peered in.  "Oh, yup, my trunk's here and oh--_oh, Harry_!"  He had lifted her hair from the nape of her neck and was doing something with his mouth that sent shivers up and down her spine.  She twisted around in his arms then, kissed him soundly on the mouth and tugged him forward, in the same manner he had done with her, and towards his room at the end of the hall.  "Come on," she said enticingly as she reached his door, twisted the handle and pushed it open.  

Harry's room—the only room he'd ever felt was truly his and his alone—was just as he'd remembered it.  His trunk was already across the room by the wardrobe; Dobby had seen to moving their belongings from Hogwarts in the morning.  The fire in the hearth sprang to life as they entered the room and Hermione continued to lead Harry into the room, smiling up at him until the back of her thighs hit the side of his bed.  

"Everything's here," Harry said as she slid her arms up and around his neck.

 *#*#*#*

Somehow, she'd managed to get him onto the bed and as he regained consciousness, he looked at her amused face framed by her untameable hair and said, "We have to do that again."

Hermione smirked down at him and said, "I'll say.  And even though you looked so appealing with your trousers just barely down past your bum, I felt the need to divest of your clothing."  

Harry looked down and saw he was completely starkers now upon the bed.  "You wicked, wicked, witch!" he said in delighted surprise.  

She trailed the tip of her wand over his chest and smirked again as she said, "Actually, I did indeed use a spell to strip you naked and if you're nice to me, I'll even teach it to you."  

Harry laughed and grinned as he saw she was still wearing her wool skirt.  He leaned up and, holding her hand that held her wand, pointed it at her skirt and whispered, "_Divestus_."  She looked surprised as her skirt vanished and he said, "Do you really think I never looked up a spell for that?"  

"You've never _used_ it," she said archly.  

"I like undressing you," he said as he kissed her cheek.  "Besides, you'll never guess where I found that one."  She looked at him questioningly and he answered, "In the _Duelling with Wizards Who Play Dirty_ book."   He laughed.  "Imagine using _that_ one during a duel!"

A few hours later and lazily circling his hand over her flat stomach, Harry sighed and propped himself up on one elbow to look down at Hermione.  "I'm surprised Remus hasn't returned and tried to get us out of here."  He leaned down and kissed her nose.  

Hermione leisurely carded her hand through Harry's messier-than-usual mop of hair and said,  "Well, he's probably afraid you'd hex him if he interrupted us again.  Speaking of which, you owe me one for bringing up Snape down there."  Harry just raised an eyebrow in question.   "Don't give me that look!  No other topic of conversation can make this—"Hermione leaned up a bit and firmly grasped the sated member between Harry's legs, making Harry breathe in sharply, "—behave as reliably as the topic of our beloved Potions Master."

Harry groaned as she cupped and tugged.  "Argh, are you _trying_ to traumatize me?  Don't touch _there_ and then talk about..._oh!  Oh, do that again_," he moaned, closing his eyes and falling back on his pillow.  Hermione laughed and let go.  "Hey!" he cried, his eyes flying wide open.  

"Hey, yourself, Potter," Hermione said as she rolled over and picked up Harry's glasses from the bedside table.  "Here," she said, handing them to him.  "Since we made this big deal about wanting to help with something and trimming the tree, I think we ought to actually get out of bed and do something."  Harry groaned again as she stood up and walked a few steps away to bend over and pick up some of the scattered clothes from the floor.  She pulled on her blouse over her head and threw Harry his trousers.  "Besides, I want to use the library here to look up some more information on fluxweed.  I can name off several potions that use it but I want to do a bit of research into the properties of the compound.  The school's copy of the Magicopiel Formulary was checked out."  She was pulling on her skirt by now and searching for her socks, finding instead, Harry's jumper, which, she then tossed over to him.  

*

*

Harry dug, yet again, into the box of Christmas ornaments that Dobby had brought out.  This time, he found a grumbling garland string of toy soldiers that seemed to be quite upset they'd just spent the last eleven months stuffed haphazardly into a box.  

"That's the last time I spend nearly a year beneath a molting partridge!" one cried, shaking his bayonet at Harry.  

"Oh, it's that time of year again!" said one jolly soldier.  "Hang us by the fire.  I like it where it's toasty warm!"  

"No!  I got me bum singed last time we was hung there!  The tree—put us on the tree!"

Harry smirked and set them aside carefully.  Hermione was currently rifling through the library while he sat cross-legged on the floor and unpacked the box of ornaments to see just what there all was.  So far he'd found several boxes of baubles and balls, strings of fairy lights with sleepy little fairy dolls attached to them, dozens of bows and yards of ribbons.  

Hermione then breezed into the Drawing Room, looking exhausted and sunk to the floor beside Harry.  "I couldn't find a Formulary," she said.  "But, I did find this book." She held up a slim book entitled, _Charms and Enchantments for the Holiday Home_.  

"Excellent!" Harry said, taking it from her and opening it.  "Self-contained snow storms, quick-wrap spells, endless eggnog, instant-trim enchantments, anti-peeking jinxes—how many times could I have used that one over the years with Ron?" Harry said, laughing.  Hermione was lifting a plum-colored, glittery ornament out of a box and did not seem to be listening.  "Hermione?" Harry said softly, seeing the faraway look on her face. 

"Hm?" she said, seeming to break out a reverie.  

"You okay?" he asked softly; the book in his hand dropping, forgotten, to his lap.  

"Oh yes," she said, placing the ornament back and sighing deeply.  "I gave Professor McGonagall a card and letter that I wrote for my parents.  I have no idea if she'll be able to send it or not.  I knew when they left we wouldn't be able to maintain a regular correspondence."  She hugged her knees to her chest then and rested her chin on her knees.  In a barely audible voice, she said, "I wonder what they're doing for the holidays?"

Harry put an arm around her and rubbed her back.  He knew Hermione was especially missing her parents now that it was the holidays.  She hadn't gone home every holiday to be with them over the last five years, but in the past, at least she'd had the choice.  "Wherever they are," he said. "I'm sure they're thinking of you."  

Hermione leaned into Harry and nodded against his chest.   After a few moments she pulled away, picked up a box with fairy lights and said, "Let's not use a spell to trim the tree, let's just do it the old-fashioned muggle way, shall we?"

As Harry had never trimmed a tree either way, it made no difference to him and so they spent the rest of the afternoon hanging every single string of lights and garland, every bow and bauble, and every ribbon and ball on the towering tree.  They had to resort to levitating the last ornaments for the top of the tree and Hermione had found a nifty bow-tying charm that she used to secure a gold-trimmed, red plaid bow to the tallest tip of the tree.  

They both stood back and squinted at the tree.  "I think we should add the self-contained snow storm spell to it," Hermione said.  "Don't you think that would look beautiful to have snow falling on the tree?"

"Absolutely," answered Remus from the doorway where he leaned against the frame, his arms crossed and surveying the room.  

"Remus, when did you get back?" Hermione asked.  As she turned to greet Remus, Harry smiled, noticing that glitter from the ornaments was now sparkling on her face and in her hair.  It gave her a rather angelic glow.  

"Me?  Oh, I got back hours ago.  But you two were busy so I took care of some errands I had to run."  Remus gave them a knowing look and walked into the room, seating himself in one of the club chairs, angled now towards the shimmering tree.  "Looks good, you two want dinner up here tonight?"  Just as Remus asked this, Fang came padding in to the room and stood, mouth open and tongue lolling out, looking up expectantly at all three of them.  Remus shook his head and said, "One mention of food and he comes calling."  

*

*

As they ate dinner, Hermione and Harry filled Lupin in on the latest happenings at Hogwarts—both the mundane and the perplexing.  Hermione told him how Harry had used an Extendable Ear to overhear Malfoy, Crabbe and Nott in Hogsmeade.  

"Ah, yes.  I do seem to recall the incident," Remus said.  "What did you overhear?" he asked Harry.

Harry recalled it yet again and Hermione explained how frustrated she was to not be able to locate a Formulary for reference, which would give the active magical properties of a compound as well as serve as an index for all potions associated with the ingredient.  

"Did you try asking Snape?" Remus asked half-heartedly.  

Hermione shook her head.  "That won't help.  I know the basics—fluxweed is an ingredient used to regulate the dissolution and systematic uptake of functional effects within a potion."  At Harry and Remus' shared looks of bafflement, she explained, "It's used to control how long a potion takes effect.  Fluxweed.  Fluctuation.  Get it?"

"Oh," they chorused.  

"Actually, I think I knew that," Harry said, frowning.  "But that does nothing to narrow it down, Hermione.  Doesn't the potency of it depend upon all sorts of factors—"  A light seemed to go on in Harry's mind as he recalled the overheard conversation.  "—and they said the full moon was holding them up!  Remus—when was the last full moon exactly?"

"The eighth," Remus said automatically.  

"That's nearly five days after we overheard Malfoy in Hogsmeade," Hermione said, nodding along.  "Whatever phase they need to pick the fluxweed, it has to be—"

"—the full moon," she and Harry both said at the same time.  

Hermione said, "Knowing that narrows down the possible potions they might be cooking up."

Harry added, "And it means they won't be ready with whatever they're planning at least until after—?" 

Harry looked expectantly at Remus, who only squinted and thought for a moment before answering, "January seventh."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.  "We won't be back to school by then," she said.  

"They'll be home and free to do whatever they're planning without any way for us to spy," Harry said.  His mind was working fast.  _They're probably at Malfoy Manor.  Probably will have loads of help from Goyle and Malfoy's mother and, oh, not to mention... his lovely Aunt Bella!_  The tone of voice in Harry's mind was mocking and angering him quickly.  _I hope Malfoy suffers some more Unforgivable practice_, he thought bitterly.  

"Harry," Remus said sternly and breaking Harry away from his thoughts that had him clenching his fists and grinding his teeth.  "Don't even think about trying to spy on anyone now.  At school where you overhear things and are relatively safe is completely different—but you are not leaving here to do something foolish."  Remus gave Harry a good long look; Harry could feel Hermione looking sternly at him, as well.  Remus relaxed then and looked smug as he said, "Besides, that's why we have Snape in the Order.  Albus will be by this week and we'll make a point of expressing our concerns to him.  Snape can easily conduct a home visit of one of his pupils and do a little reconnaissance.  Personally, I've noted he hasn't been called by Voldemort—that we know of—for well over a month.  I think he ought to start pulling his weight."

This type of candid bitterness from Remus was rare; he was most often very even-tempered and a voice of moderate reason and emotion.  Harry wondered briefly what had been getting at Remus's nerves to have him talking this way.  Hermione, who also seemed to notice the touchiness of the subject, switched the topic by asking, "So, Remus, I noticed you've set up the library here as your office.  I went in there earlier to search for a Formulary and had to move some maps over to get to the shelves.  Was that all right?"

The scowl washed away from Remus' face and was replaced by his usually calm demeanour.  "Oh, yes, sorry about that.  Actually, Moody and I had been using the dining room on the ground floor as a central office of sorts here but I moved that stuff upstairs in anticipation of the Celebration."

Maps and trending charts were constantly being updated with each new known or suspected Death Eater attack across Great Britain.  Still nothing of the sort had been reported as occurring on the continent.  Remus and Moody, the two most full time Order members and members of the Inner Council were overseeing the tracking of the attacks.  

The Order's mission in tracking these attacks and gathering reports from their elaborate network of contacts concerning these events was to discern the ultimate plans and aims of Voldemort.  They assumed, of course, that Voldemort's ultimate plans at this time would all eventually lead back to Harry in some way.  A smaller aim of Voldemort, they knew, was his regaining of the eleven devoted servants he'd lost at the battle in the Department of Mysteries.  His most grand and ultimate plan, they took for granted to be Voldemort's decisive conquering of all those who would oppose him, establish his rule as supreme and unchallenged and finally, to become immortal for all of time.  The Heir of Slytherin was nothing if not ambitious.  

"Well," Remus said, leaning back in his chair and stretching as their empty plates disappeared from the Drawing Room table.  "I hope you don't mind, but I'm a bit tired and ready to turn in.  I imagine you two can amuse yourselves?" he asked, his eyes twinkling not completely unlike Dumbledore's often did.  Remus then added, "Oh yes, and I believe old Mad-Eye plans on coming by early tomorrow morning to put you through your paces, Harry.  He wants to make sure you've not fallen weak and off of your game while away at school.  Expect him to arrive early and hex you before you've eaten breakfast."  Remus smiled pleasantly and left for bed.  

Mentally checking off the spells Harry would have to erect before falling asleep in anticipation of Moody's arrival, Harry arose and, with his wand, packed up the empty boxes and tidied the room.  He picked up the slim book on holiday home decorating and, finding the charm for the self-contained snow storm, waved his wand over the glimmering tree and watched as a whirl of silvery white snow danced out of the tip of his wand and converged upon the tree.  A softly glowing white cloud hung itself over the top of the tree and from it, snowflakes began to softly fall, landing upon the evergreen branches and making the sleepy little fairies blink up in dreamy delight.  

"It's lovely," Hermione said from beside him.  

Harry rather thought so too and smiled as he watched the enchanted snow fall.  He turned and pulled Hermione to him, his arms around her waist.  "You are quite lovely, too, you know," he said.  She smiled up at him lazily and he laughed softly seeing even her eyelashes held tiny flecks of glitter on them.  "You've got glitter all about your face and hair," he said with amusement as he smoothed his palm over her cheek and then her hair.  

"So do you," she said, her eyes sparkling as they ran over his features.  Hermione ran a hand through his hair and Harry sighed, leaning into it.  He absolutely loved the feel of this.  "Remind me to write a note to Tonks, tomorrow," she said, her brow furrowed in thought.  

Harry raised his eyebrows at her.  "Do I want to know why looking at me makes you think of writing to Tonks?"

"That depends," Hermione said slowly.  "Do you want to tell me the last time you got your hair cut?"

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled her just a bit tighter to him.  "Why are you on about this?  I told you it was this summer; my aunt made me."

Hermione still looked unconvinced and asked, "And do you usually go some six months in between hair cuts?"

Harry shrugged and said, "No, the last one before that I was ten.  But I had hundreds of haircuts when I was little.  It's only fair I don't have to have them as often now."

Hermione looked incredulously at Harry, pulling back to make sure he wasn't teasing her.  "You're serious?" she asked, her mouth agape.  Harry had the sinking feeling that he was yet again guilty of not being normal.  "Harry, don't you think—"

"Please don't go on and tell me I'm, yet again, not normal," he cut in.  "If this isn't normal, then I want to remain oblivious.  Please," he pleaded, looking into her eyes.  He could see she was conflicted between dissecting something about him that was bothering her and not upsetting him.  "Why don't we turn in for the night?" he suggested, as a slight pout played upon his mouth.  "You know what I've missed more than anything while we've been away?" he asked, resting his head beside hers and whispering into her ear.  "Sleeping beside you and you waking up beside me."  He pulled back and looked into her eyes; a few flecks of glitter glinted on her lashes.  "I've missed that terribly."

She gave in without a word and, with a last look to see Fang and Crookshanks curled up together by the hearth, they retreated to Harry's room upstairs.   As Hermione, ready for bed, slipped under the covers they'd already rumpled earlier in the afternoon and joined Harry, they were silent.  They lay facing each other while Hermione's head rested in the crook of his arm and their clasped hands rested on her chest.  The only sound in the room was the crackling of logs from the fireplace; the light from which was just barely enough for Harry to see the silhouetted features of her face.  

As they had walked upstairs and parted to prepare for bed, Harry's mind had run through all the things that marked him as different.  There was of course the Boy Who Lived thing, the prophecy that started it all, the fact Harry had endured ten years of being called an abnormal freak and had thought nothing odd of living in a cupboard under the stairs.  Then there were his strange and inherited abilities from Voldemort such as Parseltongue and, he desperately hoped, nothing else.  Oh yes, also his strange scar connection to Voldemort, the distinctive scar itself that made him instantly recognizable to anyone in the Wizarding world and the fact he routinely now could hear a host of indistinct voices in his mind as he would drift off to sleep each night.  

But all of these thoughts vanished from his mind when he held Hermione.  With her, he felt peace.  In fact the only thing he was consciously aware of as they lay silently thinking to themselves in bed, was just how at peace and utterly blank his mind was.  

"I should have taken to sleeping beside you last year," he said softly, breaking the silence.  She turned to face him, moved a hand up and cupped his cheek.  "You're presence is the most reliable way to banish all thoughts from my mind."

Worry etched her face instantly and she asked, "Harry, have you been having dreams again?"

"No," he answered honestly.  "Not dreams."  It then seemed strange to Harry that, although he'd been intending to discuss his resident voices with both Hermione and Dumbledore since Halloween, he somehow never seemed to remember this intention while in their presence.  

"What do you mean 'not dreams'?" Hermione asked, propping herself up on one elbow and looking concerned.  "If not dreams, then what?  Harry—what?" 

Part of him felt relief that he was finally remembering to inform her about this now and part of him just wanted to shove it aside for the morning.  Harry guessed this would promise to be a lengthy discussion when it finally occurred.  "Look, I've been meaning to tell you—"

"Tell me what?" Hermione demanded.

"Shh—it's not a big deal.  I just keep forgetting!" he said, trying to allay her fears.  "It's apt to take a bit of explaining though.  I promise to tell you everything if you'll just ask me in the morning?" he tried to suggest.

"What?!" she sat up in bed now and had both hands clutching at his chest.  "Are you mad?  I can't sleep now!  Just tell me!"

Harry sighed deeply and said, "It's nothing new."

"Does Professor Dumbledore know?"

"Yes, well I haven't brought it up recently with him but yes he knows."

"Recently!  How long has—_this_—been going on?"

This was definitely not going well.  Hermione's eyes were wide with trepidation and it looked like she wanted to both scream and cry.  "Hermione, calm down," Harry pleaded.

This did not seem to help.  "Harry," she said warningly.

"Just let me start from the beginning all right?"  

Hermione seemed to gather her strength again then and nodded once.  She reached over to the nightstand on her side and pointed her wand at the hearth, causing the fire to flare brighter and to give them more light.  She clearly meant for neither of them to fall off into slumber without completing this conversation.   "From the beginning," she said.

Harry sat up more against the headboard and resigned himself to the fact she was determined to do this now.  "I've been hearing voices."

"Like snakes?" 

"What?"

"Like when you were hearing the Basilisk because you understood Parseltongue?  What kind of voices?"  The instant concern on her face would almost have been comical if it hadn't been so serious.  

"No, no, not like that," Harry said, shaking his head.  She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.  Harry thought back for a moment and tried to think how best to describe this.  "Do you remember the veil?" he asked.   Hermione looked perplexed.  "Do you remember what you heard when we were near the veil?"

Hermione shook her head slowly.  "Harry, I never heard anything."

"But you felt their presence?"  The memory of the mesmerizing and alluring pull of the veil and the sense of people, murmuring, just beyond it was vivid in Harry's memory.  "Remember?"

"Harry," she was shaking her head again.  "It felt sinister and it's—_it's death_!  You know it's a portal to the afterlife, Harry.  Why are you asking about this?   You're not changing the subject from these voices you hear, are you?"

"No," Harry said hurriedly.  He still couldn't believe she hadn't felt _any_ of what he had when they'd been near the veil.   "No, just listen."  Harry sighed and closed his eyes as he recalled how he'd felt.  "To me, the veil seemed...intriguing...alluring...like sunlight creeping in through an eastern window and promising the view of a brilliant dawn and like if I just went up there and parted it I would see the most amazing sight."

"Harry..."

"There were these voices calling to me."  Hermione was trembling now and Harry was oblivious as he recalled how he felt.  "I couldn't understand them but it was like they meant for me to hear them and were beckoning me to come to them."

"No." Hermione's voice broke over the word.  Tears had welled in her eyes and her breathing was ragged as if trying to hold back from completely crying.  

Her voice startled Harry from his reverie and, as he opened his eyes, he was even more startled to see her trembling and near tears.  "Why are you crying?"

She took one choking sob before saying, "Harry, the veil is death."  Her eyes were wild, begging him to see her reason.  "You...can't mean what you say..._it's death_!"  Her eyes were pleading and as she blinked, tears rolled down from each eye, leaving silvery, glittery tracks down her checks and onto her lips.  "_You can't mean what you say_..."

_It's death_.  The words echoed in Harry's mind as her meaning slowly revealed itself to him.  Death was alluring to him, she thought.  Did he feel the same?  He anxiously probed his feelings on this and a small reluctant part of him admitted, _sometimes_.  _But it's not an option_, he thought firmly, almost admonishingly to himself.   He looked at Hermione; more tears had tracked their way down her face.  "I'm not going to die," he said.

Her face screwed up for a moment and in a very small voice, she said, "Everyone dies eventually, Harry."  Her hand reached out and caressed his face, making him realize that somehow tears had also appeared on his own cheek.  

"I'm not giving in," he said.  She couldn't really think that of him, could she?  "I would never give up."  Part of him quietly wondered if she was the only one he was trying to convince.

Another sob broke from Hermione as she struggled to hold herself together.  "But," she took a deep, shuddering breath, "if you had to give your life...if you _had_ to...to beat Voldemort..."  Another sob broke out from her chest and her eyes were screwed so tight to hold back tears he couldn't even see them anymore.  "You _would_, wouldn't you?" she whispered fearfully.

He'd never allowed himself to lend any thought to this option.  For some reason it was one of the most frightening options of the prophecy that he didn't want to believe could be a possibility.  _And it shouldn't be a possibility_, he thought fiercely.  "But 'either must die'..." he said weakly, looking at Hermione, hoping, willing her sound logic and methodical reason to see his point.   

"But what if it means..." her voice trailed off in a whinge.

Harry was dumbstruck.  He wanted to chase this thought from her mind, never to return again and yet, at the same time, he was blindsided by it.  "You think I'm going to die?  That we'll both die?"  His voice sounded far away even to him.

She took another deep, shuddering breath and looked down at his chest.  "It's possible, isn't it?"

"But do you think that's what will happen?" His voice sounded much stronger now than he felt.  As she looked up and met his eyes, he felt an overwhelming need to protect her, to make her not fear, to promise her he'd never leave her.  He held her face in both hands and, looking straight into her eyes, willed her to believe—to feel—his intent to never leave her.  From deep within, his heart was bursting and a fresh tear spilled out from his eye, rolling down his cheek.   With conviction, he said, "I'm not giving up and I'll do whatever it takes to beat him, but leaving you is _not_ an option."  

Her hands held his face as his did hers and as more tears spilled from both of their eyes, in a shaking voice she said, "Harry...I love—" He crushed his mouth to hers, not allowing her to finish; tasting the salt of their mingled tears.   Against her lips, he rushed out, "I know, I know.  I do, I know..."  He held her face tight to his as his eyes burned with more unshed tears.  He had to get himself under control.  

"You know?" she asked, her lips still against his.  She sobbed once and, their mouths still crushed against each others, said, "You do?"  She broke down then, not able to hold back from sobbing uncontrollably and the only other words she managed were, "Oh, Harry."

They sat rocking each other and both crying as Harry's mind teamed with thoughts of: _What have I done?  I'm not going to die_, and _I'm not going to leave her alone; I never want her to feel she's alone.  _As their tears had subsided and they'd lain back, embracing, Harry's mind was nowhere near sleep and he'd lost all track of how long they'd been lying there.  

"Harry?" her voice came from her head resting on his shoulder.  He was slightly surprised that she wasn't asleep.  

"Mm, hmm?"  He was staring off into the fire, resting back against a pillow propped against the headboard.  

"What about these voices you've been hearing?" she asked, lifting her head up, wiping at her eyes and looking up at him.  

"Oh," he said, remembering the reason they'd began talking in the first place.  "Right.  Oh, yes."  And there it was again, he thought.  He'd completely forgotten, gotten off track from the voices he'd fully intended on discussing with her.  It was like the memory of them, much less the voices themselves, didn't even exist when he was with her. 

"You were talking about the voices you heard from the veil," she reminded him.  He hadn't forgotten.

"Right.  I know.  They're kind of like that."  He saw a flash of pain across her face and he quickly said, "No, not the same voices.  These aren't alluring.  You see the voices I heard from the veil—they were indistinct.  Like they were just muttering or a conversation you might hear from beyond a thick door; you know someone is there but you can't hear what they are saying.  Anyway, these voices are sort of like that."  

"But they're not alluring?" she asked.

"No.  They're...soothing for the most part...like a humming lullaby or something.  I swear they put me to sleep.  I haven't had one glimpse of Voldemort in any dream since the visions about Sirius and, well, I can't really think of any dreams I've even remembered having since then."

"How long have you been hearing the voices?" she asked as she pulled herself up and looked more squarely at him.

"I don't know exactly when they started," Harry said.  "But sometime after Sirius died and when I was back at Little Whinging."  Her mouth gaped at the fact it had gone on for so long and he said, "Oh, don't worry.  I told Dumbledore about them this summer—even before I came to headquarters.  He doesn't think they're Voldemort and even if they were, they were only helping me to sleep and certainly weren't hurting anything.  He didn't seem concerned."  

Hermione was searching his face, trying to make sense of this.  He could see her mind working furiously.  "Do you hear them now?"

Harry listened for a moment; feeling a bit foolish.  "No."  Her brow furrowed deeper in thought.  "It's only been as I'm falling asleep or...just drifting off at night."  But there had been a few times when it'd seemed to be more, he remembered.  He remembered believing he heard them the night the sword of Gryffindor took up residence in his body; the night he'd been named Lead Light and the night he'd sworn he'd heard the voice of his father rise up from among the others that had seemed to be given clarity as they'd harmonized with the Phoenix Song he'd heard.  Were they the people who would have been beyond the veil?  The people whose voices might have seemed alluring to him? 

"Harry?" Hermione said, bringing him back from his thoughts.  "What do they say?  Can't you hear anything?"

He sighed and his fingers absently played with hers.  "There was the time I was named Lead Light and the Sorting Hat was on me and there was Phoenix Song—I heard, well, I thought I heard them then.  But they were, well, they seemed to be singing?  No words, but maybe...it seemed they were raised in song and again—they were heartening."  Saying he'd heard the voice of his dead father seemed stupid now and his mind rationalized it must have been the voice of the Sorting Hat that sang out any words clear and strong.  

Hermione was still looking at him closely, like she wished she could read his mind.  He knew she was trying to understand this but he also knew it was futile; it was intangible—even to him.  Finally, she asked, "Was that the only time?"

He frowned again.  "Halloween."  He recalled the voices rising as the Order meeting that night had worn on.  "It's one of the only times I can remember hearing them while trying to concentrate on something else; while not just about to fall asleep."  Again, she gaped at him, trying to take this all in.  "I started hearing them when we were at the Hogshead Inn, meeting.  I guess...they seemed to grow louder as the night wore on."

"That was the night of the first attacks," she recalled.  

He nodded.  "Yeah, I've been meaning to tell you about them ever since then.  When I got back in the Common room that night, I meant to mention it to you but I was so tired.  And then the next morning, well, it was totally pushed from my mind."

"And what did Dumbledore say about that?" she asked.

"Er," Harry said, scratching the back of his neck.  

"You haven't told him?!"

"I keep forgetting!"  Harry gave a look, begging her to believe him.  "I was going to and I even went back to his office that night intending to discuss it but then Snape barged in and I had to leave!  I just keep forgetting and have only ever thought of it when neither of you were around to bring it up."  She looked skeptical.  "Honest."

Sighing, she asked, "Anything else about these voices you've forgot to mention?"  Again Harry looked away and scratched the back of his head.  "What?" she demanded.

Meekly, Harry offered, "They've seemed a bit unsettled since Halloween.  Sometimes more than others."  He cast a sideways look at Hermione.  She looked even more perplexed.

"What does that mean?  Unsettled?"

"I don't know," he said, shrugging.  "But look, I'm not worried about it or anything," he said, again trying to allay her worries about this.

"Oh!  _You're_ not worried, eh?" she said, her voice high.  She turned and looked off to the side for a moment, thinking and then turned back to him and threw him a dirty look.  "You are going to write Professor Dumbledore tomorrow—as soon as you wake up."

"But Moody's coming."

"Fine!  After Moody—whatever.  You're writing him, though."

"But," Harry protested, frowning.  "I'd rather do it in person."

"Why?" she asked, one brow arched.

"Because it's harder to pout and look sorry for forgetting to say something sooner in a letter?"  

Hermione growled and rolled her eyes, slapping her hand against her forehead.  Harry grinned cheekily.  "Can we please go to sleep now?  I've told you everything.  And Moody's going to be here, ready to hex me in probably only a few short hours from now."

Hermione sighed and waved her wand towards the fireplace, lowering the flames again to a soft flicker.  After setting her wand aside again, she turned and slid down while Harry pulled to covers up and over them.  They lay facing each other; foreheads touching, feet entwined and hands clasped as Harry waited for her to have the last word.  She kissed him chastely on the lips and said, "You're still writing a letter to Dumbledore tomorrow—even if it's just to say you need to talk to him about something."  Harry just smiled and nodded ever so slightly against her before closing his eyes and drifting off into sleep, content to know she'd be there when he woke up.  

*

*

The next morning, Harry awoke to the luxury of his arms, although a bit numb, wrapped completely around Hermione.  He would have been quite content to lie there all morning if it hadn't been for the knowledge that, with the sun just beginning to peak in through the window, Moody was likely well on his way to headquarters right about now.  He slipped out of the bed soundlessly and saw the fire flare higher as he crossed in front of it, his feet freezing, as he dug through the wardrobe looking for his dressing gown, slippers and clothes for the day.  Finding them, he shrugged on the dressing gown, hastily slid his freezing feet into the slippers and took the armful of clothes with him as he crossed the room.  With one last look back at the beautiful sleeping face of Hermione, he left to shower and start his day.  

The morning flew by as Moody grilled Harry continually on about a million things he'd never covered at all during the summer but kept telling Harry he ought to know by now.  

"Why aren't you properly aligned?" the ex-Auror growled, flinging yet another jinx at an already itchy-eared Harry.  "Present the narrowest target to your opponent!  Now, unless you're as wide as that cousin of yours, Potter, that means you ought to be standing sideways and pointing your wand at me!"  

Stumbling and swatting at his ears with his wand to reverse the Itchy Ears Jinx, Harry dove to the ground to only just avoid another spell from Moody.  "_D__iplopia_!" he shouted, aiming at Moody's head.  Hoping the Double-Vision Jinx would give even Moody pause, Harry rushed straight at him and muttered, "_Proviso Protego_," to delay his Shield Charm from activating until Moody had fired a spell.  

Moody vacillated between the two rapidly approaching Harrys and took aim in the center as a jet of red light shot out of his wand, only to be reflected by a blue shield that appeared as if out of thin air.  As Harry had been advancing steadily, Moody had no time to dodge nor deflect his own stunner and fell to the ground.  

Panting, Harry bent over to catch his breath, performed a quick Switching Spell to remove Moody's wand from his hand and waited for Moody to break out of his stupefied state.  

"Not bad, Potter," he huffed from the floor.  "Not great, but not bad.  And why do I still have this?!" he shouted, sitting up and pointing what he just now realized was not his wand but was actually his peg-leg.  His one good eye blinked once, the magical eye focusing in on Harry, before he jabbed his half-leg that now had his wand attached to it at Harry, making silver and red sparks fly out of it.  

Harry laughed and dodged most of the sparks as only a few singed his trouser leg but were deflected easily by his dragonhide boots beneath.  

Moody kept grumbling as he tried to pull his wand off from his knee and finally barked out, "Potter! Stop smirking and get your arse over here!  Unstick this damn thing now!" He thrust his half-leg, half-wand limb out and, with his hand, shook his wooden peg at Harry.  "No bloody way for me to reverse the damn sticking charm on it without using my wand. Careful there!" he griped as Harry, trying not to laugh, performed a de-sticking charm to release the wand from his knee.  Reattaching his wooden leg, Moody jumped up and grumbled, "I think you've had enough for the day.  You're out of practice and probably need to rest."

Harry actually thought it was much more likely Moody was done for the day and was the one who needed the rest but wasn't about to say so.  Harry turned to fix several chairs that had toppled over and one that had been reduced to pieces.  The large barren space that had served as the practice hall all of last summer now sported a polished hardwood floor and was also being used as a location for Remus' work to restore several pieces of worn antique furniture that he'd found in the attic.  Unfortunately, Harry had summoned a few forth to shield him from some of Moody's most rapid attacks.

"You got a training schedule in mind for your holidays, now?" Moody asked, limping over a bit gingerly and watching Harry try to repair one particular Queen Anne style side chair. 

"Er, well, I suppose Hermione has something in mind," Harry said.  A large chunk of wood was missing from one of the front legs of the chair and he searched the floor for where the missing chunk might be.  

A gnarled hand on his shoulder made him stop and turn to see Moody studying him closely.  "You rely on her an awful lot, do you now?" he asked as even his magical eye focused forward on Harry's face.  

"She is very reliable," Harry said evenly.

Moody looked at him a moment longer and, with a grunt, turned and gimped away.  Not pausing to look back (well, not face back anyway), Moody called out; "Relying on people is a weakness!  You need to prepare yourself to get on by yourself!" He paused by the door and now looked back and said, "You never know when someone you've come to rely on might suddenly not be there any longer.  You quill a schedule on what times and dates you'll have free to train up over your holidays. We can start after Boxing Day and don't schedule anything for Tuesday nights--it's my Bridge Club."  

Harry turned back and absently continued to search for the missing chuck of wood.  _You never know when someone you've come to rely on might suddenly not be there any longer.  And on that cheery note, have a great day, Moody_, thought Harry sarcastically.  "_Accio_ stupid missing piece of wood," Harry growled, waving his wand in a circle around the scattered furniture.  Nothing came to him and he gave up.  _Brilliant_, he thought.  _Just brilliant_.  

*********

NOTE: As usual, I will remind you that there is a Yahoo group for this fic.  The group name is HP_AoF and a link to the site can be found on my bio page.  ~~~Cheers~~~


	37. Chapter 40 Goblins, Gifts and Gits

Chapter 40. Goblins, Gifts and Gits 

After finishing up with Moody in the morning and some additional training of his own, Harry had searched the house and found Hermione down in the kitchen, head stuffed into the fireplace.   She was bent over on her hands and knees; the only half of her Harry could see, looking quite lovely.  He could hear her distantly speaking with someone, whom he quickly surmised was Professor Dumbledore.  Hearing Harry enter the kitchen, she popped her head out, and claiming to only be asking for permission to take her Apparition test over break, suggested Harry have a go in the fire and mention to Dumbledore that he'd need to speak to him soon in regards to his voices.   

"Er, hello, Professor," Harry said, trying to adjust his knees into a comfortable position on the hearthstone and feeling the tickling flames of the fire about his neck and face.  

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore said.  The Headmaster was seated in his favorite armchair that faced the fire and had Fawkes perched upon his knee, who also trilled a greeting to Harry.  "I believe Fawkes says hello, as well," Dumbledore said, amused.  "So, you have something you wanted to ask me about?"  

"Er, well, yes," Harry said.  He had the distinct feeling that Hermione had already mentioned him while speaking earlier to Dumbledore.  "It's not pressing, but there's something I've been forgetting to tell you that I've meant to discuss."  Harry wasn't completely sure it would be safe to talk about him hearing voices over the Floo, so he said, "Whenever you visit next, sir, we should discuss this."  

Dumbledore seemed amused at Harry's vagueness and, twinkling merrily, said, "Well, I expect to visit headquarters sometime late tomorrow afternoon.  Hermione has asked to be allowed to take her Apparition licensing test tomorrow morning, so I imagine she'll be in a most excellent mood when I arrive.  Is that all, Harry?"   

"Yes, sir," Harry said.  His neck was getting strained from the angle and his knees were absolutely killing him so he was not eager to prolong the call.  "I'll see you tomorrow then."  Fawkes trilled farewell as Harry pulled his head back and, whirling, returned completely to the basement kitchen.   

Hermione then, had beamed, kissed him once and breathlessly said, "I need to have one member of the Order escort me to the Ministry. I already know Remus will be at St Mungo's tomorrow, so I think I'll see if Tonks can take me to the Test Centre."   She beamed again and rushed out of the kitchen and upstairs.  

Now, it was late afternoon and in the kitchen, Harry and Remus were engaged in a very evenly matched game of wizard's chess while Hermione kept reading off all the instructions and rules regarding Apparition.  They were futilely trying to remind Hermione she already knew everything there was to know about Apparition and that there was no reason for her to believe she would suddenly forget how it was done.  

"Do you think it'll be more difficult to Apparate early in the morning?" she asked worriedly.  "I don't know why they insist the tests begin at nine o'clock."  

"You sure you don't need to wait a week and study up a bit more?" Harry asked as he waved a reluctant pawn forward to be sacrificed.  He was not really serious when he said it, but Hermione still looked up, wide-eyed and asked, "Oh, do you think I should?  It has been a while."

This went on for a while and, as Dobby kept giving Harry hints as to what moves to make, Harry began to actually feel he might just win a game of chess for once.  Just as the roast Winky had in the oven was beginning to smell tantalizing, the front door up in the entry hall could be heard opening and closing.  "Anyone home?" a voice gruff called out.

"Downstairs, Dung!" Remus shouted back.   

Mundungus Fletcher stomped down the wooden steps to the basement kitchen and greeted them, "Wha' cheer!  I see yeh've got company, now, Lupin.  How 'bout a cuppa and some of what ever smells so good?"  He was dripping wet and shook off his cloak before laying it out to dry over a chair near the wide fireplace.   

"Afternoon," Remus greeted with a nod.  "Looks a bit wet out there."  Harry was watching as the wizard shook out each leg like a wet dog.   Dobby brought over a large mug of steaming coffee as Fletched sat down at the worn table and Remus asked him, "What's the good word on the street, Dung?"  

"Where's the Ogden's?" Fletcher asked, sniffing the steaming coffee.  Dobby made to reach for the mug back, but Fletcher held onto the mug possessively and growled, "How 'bout you just bring the bottle out here and I'll hold onto this to keep my hands warm?"

Dobby gave him a hard look but gave in and brought a near-empty bottle of Firewhiskey from the pantry as Fletcher, grabbing for the bottle, said, "Mad these holidays and the all the folks out.  Just came from Diagon Alley and you'd never know You-Know-Who's back.  It's as packed as ever with the holiday rush, even if it is a bit wet out."  He added whiskey to his steaming mug of coffee until it almost spilled over the brim.  He leant over then and slurped at it before topping it off again with the dregs from the bottle.  

Hermione dropped her book to the table and, finally focusing on something other than Apparition, she frowned at the now-empty Ogden's bottle on the table.  "What do most people say about the attacks that've been occurring?" she asked, looking at Fletcher, her lips pursed into a thin line as he took a deep drink from the mug.    

"Eh?  Not many say much," he said before letting out a belch without any hint of remorse.  "Now if you ask what people are _thinking_.Ah, well now-that's a different story.   I'd say it rightly depends on whether or not they've made choices to be deemed a blood-traitor or not, doesn't it?  Some folk are having to keep a low profile; others, well if they feel they've no reason to hide, then they're still trying to believe they've nothin' to worry about."  He shrugged and sniffed the air hungrily while looking over to where Winky and Dobby were crowded around the oven.  

Hermione looked at Harry a moment and then asked, "Don't people talk about the attacks, though?"  Harry, too, thought the general public, who loved to have an opinion on everything, had to be saying something about all that'd been happening.  

Fletcher just shrugged again as if he couldn't be bothered.  "What do the kids at yer school say?  Now I hear from folks on all sides-got friends of all sorts hither and yon, and most are like you and just asking for information about what people are saying.  No one's talking though.  Why would they?"  He shook his head, and drank deeply from his mug.  "No, and most aren't too happy to talk about it.  If you're a pureblood with nothing marking you as opposing You-Know-Who, then you do yer best to lie low.  No need to go making noise and get noticed-no one wants to get under the Ministry's eye now, not when they're so desperate to make it look like they're doing something.  Even worse, though, no one--and I mean _no one_-wants to catch _his_ eye," he said darkly.  He shifted in his seat and gave a glare to the empty bottle on the table as he said, "See, there're those who catch the Death Eaters' eyes and get marked as targets-an Order member if they're known, someone working in muggle relations like Arthur, those who talk about muggleborns as equals and such-you know the kind, I'm sure.  But then there's the poor sod who might catch someone's eye because they work in a certain business or live near a certain family; they don't have to be blood-traitors-they could be purebloods, even.  But they're the type who can be used for information.  You-Know-Who and his minions like to buy these folks off and keep 'em in der pockets.  Well, that's just a nice way to say blackmail, I reckon."

"Dinner is ready!" Dobby called, balancing a large platter, which held a pot roast surrounded by all sorts of roast vegetables upon it.  He set the platter to hover over the table until a spot was cleared for it to land and then scurried away, returning a moment latter with a large pitcher of milk balancing on his shoulder.  "Dobby knows all about the many spies for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," he said knowingly, precariously sloshing milk inside the pitcher as he hefted it onto the table. 

"You mean from when you worked for the Malfoys?" Harry asked.   Fletcher sloshed his steaming coffee over his hand in surprise at this comment.  Harry explained quickly, "Dobby used to work for them, but he risked his life to save mine so I helped get him free."

Dobby climbed up onto a chair beside Harry and, beaming at him, said, "Harry Potter freed Dobby!  Harry Potter is a great and _good_ wizard! Yes, Dobby did not like working for bad wizards!" he said shuddering and shaking his head.  He leaned over and, looking furtively about the table, whispered, "They were _dark_ wizards!"  Dobby slapped his hands over his mouth, his eyes wide as if he had just said something he knew he shouldn't have.

Harry had to stifle a laugh.  "Don't worry, Dobby.  The Malfoys being dark wizards isn't news to anyone here."

Hermione poured herself a glass of milk and said, "Well, I think it's disappointing if people are afraid to take a stand against Voldemort."  Both Dobby and Fletcher winced sharply at the name.  "Everyone says how awful it was the last time he was powerful but now, from what you say they're just cowering and hoping to not be noticed?"  She shook her head disapprovingly.  "That's just passive support for him."  

Fletcher eyed her grumpily and said, "Most folk would say it's just sound strategy for survival, Missy."  

Harry knew Hermione would work herself up if left to try to convince someone like Fletcher of something he just didn't believe, so he decided to intervene and change the subject.  "Hermione, did you hear back yet from Tonks about tomorrow?"  He turned to Fletcher and explained, "She's getting her license for Apparating tomorrow.  How are you getting to the Ministry?" he asked Hermione.  

She never noticed the quick change of topic as it brought back into focus her favorite subject of the day.  "Oh yes, Tonks should be here before eight tomorrow morning.  We're taking the tube downtown then.   She says the written portion of the test takes about an hour and a half.  There's a wait while you have to make sure you pass that portion and then there's the practical test.  First, you have Apparate across a room; there are requirements for accuracy and all before they'll let you move on from there.  Then you have to Apparate from the Test Centre in the Ministry, into their outpost located in Diagon Alley."  She went on for a few more minutes and Remus shared a weary look with Harry; they'd been hearing the same thing all day.  

The evening wore on and Hermione, in her obsession with going over every detail about Apparition and her impending test, never noticed Harry was unusually quiet.  Moody's words from his morning session kept running through his mind.  _You never know when someone you've come to rely on might suddenly not be there any longer.  _In Harry's mind, he kept going over all the many ways he relied on Hermione.  It was a way of life for him it'd been going on for so long.  But after a while and a great deal of brooding about it, it wasn't the fact that he relied on Hermione to help him with homework, with discussing things about the Order or even just with making decisions in general.  It was more the fact that he had allowed his _moods_ to rely so much on her.  Somehow, he'd let himself care so much for her that he now realized his very happiness depended largely on her.  If something ever _did_ happen to her that prevented her from being with him. well, Harry didn't even want to contemplate that.   

He cared about her. He'd always known that, even when she was just a friend.  He cared about Ron, he cared about Remus, he cared about the Weasleys, his other friends, and even Hedwig.  Caring about people was not what was so new; it was how _much_ he cared for her that scared him. He _cared_ about her.  He was beginning to realize just how._vulnerable_ it made him feel to care so much for someone; someone who held within her hand, his very happiness and the foundation of so many hopes.  Harry found these musings on his feelings to be a bit unsettling.

In his ponderings, it never occurred to Harry that this very feeling of vulnerability was what he had instinctively feared all along.  When he'd reacted so strongly when Hermione first tried to say she loved him, when he continually suppressed his urges to give in and say he loved her, and when he always kept one tiny part of his brain focused on guarding his mouth and the words it might say when they were together-all of these things-they were the defenses he'd built up to avoid this raw, open and exposed feeling of vulnerability.  He'd never imagined his heart might be something over which he'd have no control and even now, he hadn't a clue just how little control he could ever hope to have.  

"Knut for your thoughts, Harry?" Remus said, knocking softly on the doorframe and peering into his bedroom.  Harry'd been sitting back on the small sofa in his room for well over two hours now and staring absently out of the enchanted window that showed an evening sky of twinkling stars shinning down upon a wintry, snow-covered landscape.  The Gryffindor Quidditch Playbook lay open on his lap in which he would occasionally flip some pages. "Sorry, if I'm interrupting," Remus said.  "I saw the light on and your door open when I came up. Hermione's still practicing; I've told her she ought to give it a rest or else she'll splinch herself Apparating back and forth like that while she's stressed out."

"Come on in, Remus."  Harry flipped another page in the book absently and moved his legs off the sofa.  

Remus entered the room and sat beside Harry as he curiously lifted Harry's book to see the cover.  "Er.is there a reason you're reading reports on cauldron-bottom thickness?" he asked, clearly amused.

Harry's mouth quirked up in a smile as he handed to the book over to Remus.  "You've got to use the proper password," he said.  "I bleed Gryffindor red.  Go on-try it."

Remus, looking impressed, pulled his wand and, pointing it at the book, clearly pronounced, "I bleed Gryffindor red."  His eyes widened then as he saw the glamour dissipate and reveal the book to be the ancient quidditch playbook.  "Well, it's certainly been a few years since I saw this last," he said quietly, flipping a few pages.  He looked up and smiled fondly as he handed the book back to Harry.  "You know your father was captain, too, his last two years."  

Harry affected a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.  "I know; I saw some plays he wrote in there."  

"So," Remus breathed out, searching for something to say.  "Got all your holiday shopping complete?"

"Er, actually, not quite," Harry said, looking sheepish.  "I still need to stop somewhere near here to get Mister Weasley his gift.  I was thinking of getting him a small muggle personal stereo.  I always get him some muggle gift and I was thinking he could use the stereo without needing to plug it in anywhere," he explained.  "Will you be around to go out with me tomorrow afternoon?"

"Oh, well, I'm sorry, but no, I likely won't.  I'll be at St. Mungo's until tomorrow evening."  Remus looked apologetic.  "You'll need at least one Order member to escort you--Dumbledore's orders.  But maybe Tonks can take you tomorrow when she gets back with Hermione?"  Harry nodded.  Remus went on, "Oh, about the Celebration-Molly told me last week she'd be willing to help with any of the preparations.  I'm not so sure there's much left to help with, but," he shrugged, "keep that in mind if there're any last minute things we need."

"Right.  Actually, I should read up on that.  Make sure I know what to expect," Harry said.  He rose and crossed over to the desk where Dobby had unpacked all the books from his trunk. 

Remus, stifling a yawn, rose, too and said, "Well, like I've said before, if you have any questions-just ask."  He nodded once to Harry and turned, calling out, "Good night," as he left.  

Hermione showed up shortly thereafter and, saying she wanted to get a good night's sleep before her test in the morning; looking undecided of where to spend the night.  "You can sleep in here," Harry said.  "I won't keep you awake if you don't want me to."  He tried his best to give her a smile; he could tell she'd worked herself into a stressed frenzy over her test.   "Come on," he said, sighing and closing his book.  "I'll turn in now, too."  

Hermione chattered on as they settled into bed.  "I wonder how many questions there are on the written exam?  Do you think they'll let me see it as they mark it?  I don't just want to be told I pass or fail; I mean I want to know if I got one incorrect, what it was and what the correct answer is.  You think they'll tell me?"  

Occasionally, Harry would nod or say, "Uh, huh."  It occurred to him, as her chattering grew into quiet muttering, that he wouldn't be hearing any voices other than hers tonight.  However, he was wrong.  Because long after Hermione had grown silent and her breathing deepened, Harry was still wide-awake.  He'd let his thoughts rule his mind for a good hour before consciously clearing his mind in preparation for sleep.  But once his own thoughts grew quiet, a faint din of voices could be heard rising off in the distance.  Occasionally, one voice would echo, lost from the others and desperately seeking direction.  The others would beckon to it then; hearkening it to join them and their crusade.  Harry strained and strained to hear them but found his inability to distinguish any words to be maddening.  Frustrated with all that he didn't understand, he rolled over and curled up behind Hermione, pulling her close.  There was no hint of feeling vulnerable when he held her tight.

A loud knocking on the door slowly roused both Harry and Hermione from deep sleep.  A sudden _pop!_ of someone Apparating into the bedroom, made them both bolt upright and lunge for their wands.  

"Wotcher, kids!"  Tonks called out, grinning and covering her eyes with her hands as she stood in the middle of the room.  "Can I open my eyes or should I pretend to -_oof!"_  Hermione's pillow hit Tonks with such force that she staggered back and, stumbling over the hearthrug, toppled to the ground.  "I take it someone's not a morning person," she said, groaning from the floor.  

"What time is-oh!" Hermione said, squinting to see the time on the mantle clock.  "Oh, I still need to shower!" She sprang out of bed, letting a cold draft of air in that, if Harry wasn't completely awake before, made sure he most definitely was now.  He yanked the covers back over and around himself as he reached for his glasses off the nightstand.  It was not even seven-thirty.  

"So, Har, what's new?" Tonks asked, flopping down on the bed in the spot Hermione had just vacated.  

"Nothin'," he said, settling back into his pillow.  "'M cold," he mumbled, burrowing deeper under the duvet.  

"Doncha know a simple Heating Charm, Wonder Boy?" Tonks teased, reaching over to ruffle his hair.  

Harry growled and mumbled, "Don't mess it up."  He reached out then to stop her arm from waving her wand to perform a Heating Charm and said, "Don't-those charms get too hot.  I'm fine under the covers."  He pulled his arm back and brought the covers up to his chin to illustrate his point.

Tonks just raised an eyebrow and said, "That's not what I heard."  At Harry's wide-eyed look, she laughed and said, "Gotcha!"  

Harry grumbled some more and then remembered to ask, "Hey, can you take me shopping when you guys get back?  I need to find someplace where I can buy a little muggle stereo."  

"Are you asking me to be your escort?" Tonks asked shrewdly.   Harry grinned cheekily and she laughed.  "Sure!"  She jumped off the bed and said, "But I'll only have about an hour or two by the time I get back.  I have to be at work by two this afternoon for a late shift."  Her face grew more serious and she said, "It's something about the solstice; I just got a tip off this morning from Dumbledore that Snape was summoned from Hogwarts very early this morning.  We're probably having double the Aurors on call tonight since Dumbledore put out the word."  She walked up a tall mirror against the wall and struck a pose as she made her hair change from its usually short and spiky black, into long and wavy blond.  

Harry sat up now at Tonks' news, mindless of the cold and ran a hand through his hair.  _This never ends_.  "I suppose I should check my cauldron, too," he said, sighing heavily and getting out of bed.  "Other than that, how's work?" he asked as he went to his wardrobe and dug for something to pull over his t-shirt as he slid his feet into his slippers.  

"Oh, you know, chase after one Dark Mark and then another, Obliviate any muggles who see anything and tell folks the Ministry's got everything under control.  But, hey, we've got a new class of recruits joining the force in January."  Tonks, waved her wand at the fireplace, causing it to pop and flare before getting it settle down from a raging inferno.  She smiled sheepishly as Harry finally pulled an old worn sweatshirt over his head.  "Amelia told me she wants me to help train some of the newbies.  I'll also be feeling them out for how they can help us network."  Tonks seated herself on the foot bench at the end of the bed and they both turned then to see Hermione, a towel wrapped around her head and body, run past the door, from the bathroom to her bedroom.  

"I thought Auror training went from July to July and lasted three years?" Harry asked, standing in front of the fire to warm himself.  

"Usually," Tonks said.  "Breakfast?" she asked as she heard his stomach rumble.  Harry nodded and they headed out to go down to the kitchen.  "Yeah, usually it's a full three years with only two weeks for holidays.  But it's one of Fudgie's little plans to increase the force; he's lessening the amount of time for training."  Tonks didn't sound like she agreed very much with this plan.  "It's thick of him, really.  I guess they've rushed through all the stuff to be covered in the last year, in the past six months.  This first group is coming off the Isle six months early.  I guess that's not _too_ bad, but then he wants the _next_ class after that to come off the Isle in _another_ six months-they'll only have had _two years_!"  She shook her head as they descended the stairs.  "I think he's asking for more trouble."

"I read-well, Hermione read, that the MLEP revised its requirements as well to increase their number," Harry said.  The MLEP, or Magical Law Enforcement Patrol was the more common, security variety of law enforcement for the Ministry.  They were the ones commonly called upon to issue fines, generally patrol Wizarding areas and to help enforce minor decrees such as Mr. Weasley's Muggle Protection Act.  Aurors were members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad and were the elite force that targeted dark wizards and the really dangerous criminals.  

Tonks scowled at the mention of the MLEP.  "Don't even get me started!" she said.  "Do you know all they require now to be on the MLEP?" she demanded, turning to Harry as they entered the kitchen where the smell of bacon, coffee and sausages met them.  "_You_ could be an MLEP agent!" she said.  "All you need is a passing OWL in Charms and Defense-that's it!"  She was obviously disgusted by this.  "When the announcement was made to the department about that, Fudge said it was because there were all kinds of able-bodied witches and wizards who didn't necessarily finish schooling to pass any NEWTs.  He went on and on about how we need all the _men_," she snorted, "we can get."  She poured herself a cup of cream and then added a touch of coffee.  "Idiot," she muttered.  

Tonks continued to mutter while continually stealing sausages off of Harry's plate until Hermione finally burst into the kitchen, saying, "I'm ready! Are you ready?" she asked Tonks as she checked her watch.  "We should probably go--oh, we won't be late, will we?"   

Tonks just turned to Harry and gave him a look that clearly said, "Get her under control."  

Harry stood up from his breakfast and put his hands on Hermione's shoulders.  She was still muttering about her test and being late and actually looked startled to see him in front of her.  "Oh, Harry.  I have my test today, you know," she said absently.   

As if he didn't know.  "Hermione," he said quietly; she bit down on her lower lip nervously and couldn't help but smile.  "Hermy?" She glared up at him now, making him smirk.  "You're going to do fine, Hermy."  

"Don't call me that," she said crossly.  

"Give her a good snog now," Tonks said, rising and heading to the door.  "Don't let her go until she's calm.   I don't want to have to silence her on the ride into town.  Meet me upstairs," she said as she left them alone.   

Harry laughed quietly and pulled Hermione to him.  He leaned his head against hers and sighed as he said, "You do know you're going to do fine.  Hermione, this test is merely a formality.   We've been given more leeway than anyone in how we've been allowed to practice and learn Apparition.  You've nothing to worry about, I promise you."  

Hermione took a deep breath and sighed.  "You're right," she said, nodding and pulling back to look at him.  

"Course I am," Harry said. He leaned down, catching her eye, and caught her lips softly with his own.  He meant to only give her a quick good luck kiss, but soon found himself kissing her deeply and with fervour.  It seemed going twenty-four hours without a sound snog was too much for either of them.  Breathless, they finally pulled apart.  "I'll walk you up," Harry said.  He silently cursed himself for not putting on jeans or a longer sweatshirt as his flannel pyjama bottoms did little to help him walk comfortably upstairs to the entry hall.  

"All ready to go?" Tonks asked cheerily, thankfully oblivious to his plight.  

Hermione nodded; she was much calmer now and confidently walked over to the hall tree and donned her winter cloak.  "I need a new cloak," she muttered absently as she did up the clasp in the mirror.  

Harry, though, motioned to Tonks and, pulling her near, whispered, "Don't let her get a new cloak."

Tonks looked confused and asked, "Why not?"

Harry, rolling his eyes, whispered, "Because Christmas is only a few days away and she's already got one coming."  He raised his eyebrows so she'd get the hint.  

"Oh," Tonks said quietly.  

"You ready?" Hermione asked, pulling on her gloves and walking to the door.

"Sure thing! Add some Warming charms to your cloak; it's a bit nippy out there.  Snow expected later in the day!" Tonks called out.  She turned to leave but them stopped and went back to Harry with a mischievous grin on her face.  "By the way, Potter, there's _one_ condition for me taking you shopping later."  Harry looked at her warily and she smirked.  She lunged for him, ruffling his hair again and said, "You've got to tell me all about the last haircut you got!"  

Harry noticed Hermione avoided meeting his eyes as she and Tonks quickly left.  

As Harry showered and tried to go about his morning, he kept getting more and more annoyed that Hermione hadn't let the thing with his hair drop.  She'd gone and told Tonks about it and obviously had Tonks trying to badger him on it now.  He'd suspected yesterday that she might have mentioned it to Dumbledore through the fire before he arrived there and the whole thing was now pissing him off.   He felt restless with no one at all to talk to and get his mind off Tonks' impending inquisition.  He tried to sit at the desk in his room and make out a training schedule for the three weeks of holiday break like Moody had told him to do. Instead, Harry only managed to anger himself even more as he kept hesitating to put anything in ink because he knew Hermione would have already written out a revision timetable for their schoolwork to be done over the break.  

"This is ridiculous," he told himself as he tossed his quill down.  He paced in his room a bit and even had a fleeting thought of trying to find someone else to escort him out for the brief jaunt of shopping he had to do. _Who else could I ask to take me? Maybe I could go out by myself.it'd be quick.  _

A sudden crack preceded Dobby as the little elf appeared in Harry's room.  "Harry Potter must not go out by himself," Dobby squeaked out shrilly.  

"How did-?"  Harry blinked twice.  "But I wasn't-"

"Dobby knows, Harry Potter sir."  Harry had never seen Dobby give such a stern look before.  "Dobby _always_ knows what Harry Potter is wanting and Dobby is knowing he _must_ keep Harry Potter safe."  Dobby nodded so vigorously his ears flapped with the effort.  "Even Professor Dumbledore's saying Dobby must help Harry Potter, sir!"

Harry scowled.  Someone had told Dobby to keep an eye on him.  Did they think he couldn't watch out for himself a few short hours alone?  Did they think he'd really be foolish enough to go out on his own (as tempting as it was)?  "Thank you, Dobby, for looking out for me, but I can take care of myself," Harry said coolly as he turned away.  He couldn't believe he was now being watched over by a house-elf.  

Dobby slipped over and stood in front of Harry again and said, "Harry Potter has messages from Professor Dumbledore.  Did Harry Potter check his cauldron this morning?" 

Harry vaguely wondered how Dobby knew this, but did want to know what was in the post today.  If Tonks had gotten a message, it was likely he'd been copied on the message as well.  Harry went over to his trunk, Dobby still at his heels, and dug until he was pulling out his enchanted cauldron used for sending and receiving Order post.  Sure enough, inside the cauldron were two new parchment scrolls.

Harry unrolled the first; it was a memo that read:

_To: AB, KS, NT, AM, AW, HP, RL_

_From: AD on the 22nd of December at 4:00 AM _

_Just a few hours ago, SS was summoned.  He was given a warning of this impending summons from an associate and told it would be related to plans rumoured to culminate tonight, on the winter solstice.  MLES urged to increase watch and availability for the latter part of today_.  

Well, that would be the note Tonks had mentioned this morning and would explain why she was to be working a late shift today.   Harry recalled that the ancient magical holidays or Sabbats were astronomically auspicious times to perform ritualized magic such as many of the Dark Arts.  The last one had been Halloween.  Harry thought back to the events of that night.  In fact, he recalled, that was one night he'd heard the voices acting strange.   _Were the voices acting strange last night? It's always strange to hear voices.  Would they act strange tonight?_  Harry really did wish to stop hearing those damned voices.  He unrolled the second parchment scroll and read:

_To: HP, HG, AM, NT, KS, RL_

_From: AD on the 22nd of December at 9:30 AM_

_Let us plan to meet at Headquarters at half-past noon today to discuss recent developments. I expect to have more news at this time that will need to be shared.    _

Harry wondered if Snape had returned already from his summons and had given news of what to expect to Dumbledore.  What else could he have to share?  Did they already know whatever it was Voldemort was planning for tonight?  Harry felt frustrated; he hated waiting.  

Dobby had disappeared again now and Harry stared off into the fire.  He checked his watch-_ten-thirty_.  At the earliest, Tonks and Hermione might be back just about noon.  He wasn't sure he'd even have time to get his shopping done at all now.  Harry dug in his open trunk again, searching out an old wallet that he used to hold any muggle money he had.  It was empty.  _Bugger_.  

Even more restless now, Harry wondered whom he could ask to spare him an hour or so to escort him.  If he wanted to get this shopping done at all, he'd have to get it done now.  He'd have asked Mr. Weasley but that sort of negated the whole purpose.  _Maybe Bill_?  Harry began walking out and downstairs.  The only fireplace in headquarters connected to the Floo network was the one in the basement kitchen.  _Even better-Fred and George_, he thought.  _They'd do anything for me and_, he smugly added to himself, _they are members of the Order_.  

"Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes!" Harry announced in a loud voice after sticking his head into the fire and dropping a pinch of Floo powder into the flames.  He felt his head travel a few moments through the flames and suddenly found himself looking at a cluttered room with all sorts of haphazardly stacked parchments, books, cauldrons teetering upon stacks of books and large mixing bowls that looked to belong in a kitchen scattered about.  "Hello?!" Harry called out, trying to peer around the room from the fireplace.  "Fred?  George?"  He could hear some music playing in the room but still saw no one.  This time, Harry shouted, "HELLO?  FRED-GEORGE-IS ANYONE HERE?"

Harry paused as he waited for someone to appear.  He briefly muttered about the Floo being closed off to travel.  For obvious security reasons the headquarters' connection only allowed firecalls.  Maybe he could just Apparate to the twins' shop?  He wouldn't be alone then, even if it would be against his specially granted permit to learn Apparition.  According to the permit, he was only allowed Apparition training within the presence of a second licensed adult.  Although.Fred and George were licensed adults.

Just as he was contemplating this, one of the twins walked in the room, looking about curiously.  "Hey! Over here!" Harry called out; he was fairly certain this was George.

"Harry!  What a surprise!"  George walked over and held out a small tray of what looked like tiny Christmas cakes.  "Want one?" he asked, grinning at Harry.

"No," Harry said.  "Listen, I need your help.  Do you think one of you could help me for about an hour or so?" he asked, pleading up at George.

"What do you need?" George asked, looking serious and kneeling down in front of the fire.  

"Oh, nothing big.  It's just I need an adult member of the Order to come with if I leave headquarters."  He grinned at George.  "Somehow, you qualify.  It's a small errand.  Do you have an hour?"

"Sure," George said.  "Lee's here helping today so I could leave.  Where do you need to go?"

"Er, well, I actually, I need some gold exchanged for sterling at the bank.  I'm out of muggle money and I need to go to a muggle shop.  Can I get you to make a stop at Gringotts before you meet me?"

George grimaced and said, "The Goblins aren't our best friends right now," he said making a face.  "Fred and I were just in there last week, trying to open up a business account of sorts and they gave us the run around.  Actually, I kind of think Bill's been acting the prat a lot down there and that they just don't like us 'cuz we're Weasleys.  You'd probably get a better rate if you went yourself."  George's face perked up then and he said, "Actually, Harry.  You're their favorite wizard supposedly, so maybe if I went with you there, they'd give us our account?  You could tell them you're our financier and all.  What do you say?  You come there with me and I'll go with you then?" 

"Er, well, I need to be back at headquarters for a meeting at half past noon," Harry said slowly.

"No problem!" George crowed.  "You can Apparate over here, can't you?" George set down his tray of treats and started digging through parchment stacks and setting aside books.  

"Er."

"I'll go tell Fred and find the stuff I need to take to Gringotts.  Give me about five minutes, Harry.  Just pop in here to the back room-there's a crowd of holiday shoppers out front," he called as he left Harry's head sitting in the fire. 

Pulling his head back, Harry thought, _well, be careful what you wish for_.  He left the kitchen and climbed the stairs all the way back up to his room, ticking off the things he would need to bring with him.  He pulled out a heavy wool cloak from the wardrobe.  It was one Sirius had bought and he'd never worn it before.  But it looked to have actual sleeves and was similar to a long duster.  Harry thought it would blend in much better than just a typical cloak while in the muggle world.  He made sure his moneybag was in the pocket and double-checked he had his wand.  He grabbed the muggle wallet off the bed and headed out to Disapparate from the entry hall.  

"Where is Harry Potter going?" Dobby demanded as Harry turned to descend the final few steps into the hall.  

"Er, hey Dobby," Harry said, smiling ruefully.  The little elf had his hands on his hips and was looking up suspiciously at Harry.  "I'm just going to meet a member of the Order who's going to escort me on my errands." Dobby looked uncertain as Harry checked his watch and saw it was past five minutes after he'd talked with George.  "And I need to get going, now.  I'll be back by noon."  

With that, Harry focused his mind on thinking of the twins' shop in Diagon Alley.  He'd never been in their back room in person before, but he knew its approximate location.  He Disapparated from the entry hall of Grimmauld Place with a soft _pop!_ while feeling a slight tugging at his trouser leg.  He opened his eyes to find himself in the back room exactly where he'd spoke with George just minutes earlier and was shocked when he looked down.

"Harry Potter must not go out alone!" Dobby said forcefully.  He pulled his hand back from clutching at Harry's trouser leg and looked up fearfully.  "Dobby has to make sure Harry Potter remains safe!" he almost wailed, cowering away.

"Oi! Harry, you're here-good.  Oh-ok, I see," George eyed Dobby with confused amusement. "Well, okay then, are you planning on buying something humongous that you need Dobby to carry around or something?"

"No," Harry said, exasperated.   He looked down at Dobby and, trying to remain calm and not make Dobby think (well, realize) that Harry was mad at him, he said, "Dobby, I've got a member of the Order right here.  I'm fine.  You can go back to headquarters, as I don't need you to watch over me."

"Actually, Harry," George said.  "I've got a ton of paperwork that needs to be hauled over to Gringotts and, as it's got all sorts of anti-fraud charms and accuracy enchantments, they can't be shrunk down.  Maybe Dobby could help us, get them over to Gringotts?"  

Harry didn't have a chance to say no, because Dobby bounded over to George and pulled out a bag from somewhere in the three tiny jumpers he was wearing.  "Put them in here, sir!" Dobby said.  George grinned as he put stack after stack of parchment into the small bag that Dobby had obviously enchanted.  

"Hey, Harry,' Fred said, poking his head in the back room and grinning.  "I heard you're going to help us get a crediting account with the bank?"  He walked into the room a few steps and watched George happily dumping piles of parchment into Dobby's bag.  "Well, that's a better idea than how we hauled it all down there just to haul it all back last week.  Good, that."  Fred looked up at Harry then and said, "Usually only see house-elves out with some filthy rich pureblood type who wants to show off that they're stinking rich."  At Harry's worried look, Fred laughed and said, "No offense, Harry.  No one will mistake you for a pureblood.  Hey-did you hear abut tonight?  Tonks just stopped in and said she's waiting on Hermione to finish her Apparition test-"

"It'd be hilarious if _she_ failed," George snorted.

"Yeah, well, Tonks said there's a high alert out for tonight.  Said they're expecting something to happen.  You hear about that, Harry?" Fred asked.  George, dusting off his hands now, looked impressed at the news. 

"Yeah, yeah I heard-look, is she here now?" Harry asked.  He definitely didn't want Tonks to see him out now.

"Yeah," Fred said, leaning back out into the shop.  "Oi! Tonks!  Come here a sec!"

"No!" Harry said, looking desperately at George.  "I don't want her to see me-"

A sharp _bang_! sounded and Fred was flung out of the cluttered back room and through the doorway as the door slammed shut.  Harry looked down to see Dobby still pointing his long finger at the now closed door.   Dobby looked up then, smiling at Harry and said, "Dobby _helps_ Harry Potter, sir!"

"_Brilliant_," George whispered.  He grinned at Harry and said, "C'mon, let's head out the back."

Harry and George, with Dobby at their heels, skipped out the back door and down the alleyway.  It was an overcast day that, if not for the biting cold, would portend rain.  However, with the freezing temperature and blustery winds, if there was going to be any precipitation in the air, it would most definitely be snow.  Harry wrapped his cloak tightly around him, thankful for having brought a scarf to wrap around his neck and lower face.  George looked fairly warm in his lurid green dragonhide jacket, but had his hands stuffed deep into the pockets.  Dobby was bounding along, the cold not affecting him at all.  

They passed between two tall buildings and entered onto the main of Diagon Alley.  There were crowds of people, busily heading in and out of shops and carrying bags and packages of all shapes and sizes.  George was pointing out some newer shops here and there that had recently opened.  He pointed to one that was a tattoo parlour and said he and Fred were thinking about getting something there.  

"Yeah?" Harry said.  "You going to get 'George' stamped across your forehead so people can tell you two apart?"

"How do you know I'm George?" 

Harry pointed to his mouth and said, "Because you've got that scar on your lower lip from when you attacked Malfoy last year.  Ferret must have got a hit in on you."

George laughed heartily but said, "Actually, I think that's from you, mate.  That git never got a hit on me; I think it was your elbow or something when you drew back to knock him again that hit me."

"Oh?  Sorry about that, mate," Harry said, grinning but not really sounding too sorry.

George waved it off.  "Eh, all for a good cause."  They walked up the stone steps to the towering white building and two goblin guards, in red and gold uniforms, opened wide the burnished bronze doors to the bank.  Harry caught the eye of one goblin as he bowed deeply and nodded, almost imperceptibly, as he paused a moment to make sure Dobby was still with them.  Dobby, looking happy and carefree smiled up at Harry and bounced along in through the doors ahead of him.  

Witches and wizards waited in long queues all down the long counter in the vast lobby.  George and Harry tried to crane their necks around and see over everyone there to find the shortest line.  "Er, I think we'll just have to wait," George said, frowning.  "Bill helped us get in quick to see someone last time.  Although, I don't think that helped us much."  He pointed over to one lone goblin, perched high on a stool and manning a small window off to the side, saying, "Harry-the exchange window's over there.  There's no line.  I'll wait here and you can go exchange your gold there."

Harry, with Dobby following along quietly, walked up to the lone available window and tried to give the goblin a friendly smile.  "Hello, I need to exchange some gold into sterling," he said.  

"Key, please," the goblin said, not looking up from a ledger and sounding bored.  

Harry didn't have a key as it was currently enchanted to be within his moneybag, so he pulled out his Bottomless Moneybag and plopped it on the counter.  "Key's in there," he said.  "What's the going exchange rate?"  The goblin looked up as his eyes widened, seeing the Gringotts-issued Moneybag.  They widened even more then as they landed on Harry's face and almost bulged right out of his head as they looked up at his scar.   "Exchange rate?" Harry asked again.

The goblin stammered a moment and then slipped down off his stool and held up a long finger, saying, "Just one moment, Mister Potter, one moment."  Harry saw the goblin exit the small cubicle behind the window and then disappeared out of sight.   

Harry waited almost a minute, noted Dobby was standing right at his feet, silent as could be and almost hidden in the folds of his cloak, before a door opened beside him and a goblin, dressed in a conservative dark navy uniform, stepped out and nodded once to Harry.  Harry vaguely remembered this goblin as one who'd been an assistant of sorts that had brought tea and fetched papers the last time he was here.  "Sajak will attend to you, Mister Potter," the goblin said, bowing slightly at the waist.  

"Oh, er, I just needed to exchange some currency here." Harry said; he really didn't see why he needed any special attention.  

"We insist, Mister Potter, to provide you with the finest service," the goblin said, bowing again slightly.

"Er, well, in that case." Harry looked back across the lobby and tried to spot George.  "I've got a.er, a--a business associate here and he's waiting in queue over there."

"Bring him along, Mister Potter.  A friend of yours is a friend of ours."  The goblin smiled a toothy smile up at Harry and held the door open.  He looked back inside then and whispering to the goblin that had been manning the currency exchange window as Harry turned away to go find George.

Harry turned then and saw George walking towards him, looking down and-and he was being led by Dobby.  Harry smiled.  _Maybe having Dobby along wasn't a bad idea after all_.  

"Follow me then," the goblin said. Harry and George, with Dobby back to following along inconspicuously, were led through the door, down a long hallway, and into a wide room that had a gleaming, long black table surrounded by several tall-backed black chairs in the center.  Six goblins dressed in identical black uniforms were seated at the table.  "Will you need anything else, Sajak?"

"I don't believe so," said a goblin who shut the door quickly as soon as they were through it. "Mister Potter-a pleasure to see you," he said as he bowed and then held out his hand for Harry to shake.  Harry recognized him as the one who had helped him arrange his account and new vault over the summer.  He was also wearing a crisp black uniform and smiled in his goblin-way at Harry before reaching over to shake George's hand.  George looked decidedly overwhelmed.  

"Er, good to see you again, sir," Harry said, nodding to the goblin he assumed was Sajak.  Harry looked about the room and felt very.outnumbered.  "Er, we're just here to do some quick business.I'm not really sure we need a whole team to attend to us."

"But we've got business to do with you, Mister Potter," said one wizened looking goblin who was seated in the center of the others.  Sajak pulled out two chairs across from the goblins and gestured for Harry and George to have a seat.  Harry couldn't see Dobby anywhere as he sat down, feeling a tad uncomfortable.  But then, as if he knew Harry had wondered where he was, Harry felt Dobby tug at his trouser leg in a reassuring manner.  

"Here is your Moneybag, Mister Potter," Sajak said, sliding the velvet emerald green bag with golden tassels across the table to Harry.  "I've updated it so you can access muggle currency anytime you need it.  Just focus on what you need when you reach in and it'll provide you with what you need.  You'll receive our best exchange rate, of course," he said, bowing again as he seated himself beside the other six goblins.  

"Blimey, Harry," George said as Harry took his moneybag and pocketed it into his cloak.  "I didn't know you had one of those."

"May we speak openly in front of your friend?" the wizened goblin asked.

"Sure," Harry said, exchanging a look with George.  "This is George, George Weasley."  

George nodded.

"You are related to William Weasley?" a goblin from the other end inquired.

"Yeah, yeah, Bill's my oldest brother."

The goblin nodded once and then the center, wizened one spoke, saying, "That is Ragnok, he oversees all our wizard employees, witches, too for that matter."  Harry nodded to the goblin on the end who he'd heard Bill talk about.  "I am Garook and I am the chief governor of the London branch of Gringotts."

Harry nodded as George breathed out, "Blimey, Harry.I thought we were here to just exchange some gold and drop off forms."

Harry gave him a helpless smile and shrugged but then turned back to Garook and said, "It's a, er, pleasure to meet you all, but we are kind of on a schedule this morning."

"This will be brief, Mister Potter, I assure you," Garook said.

"Harry, you can call me Harry."  Harry saw more than one set of goblin eyebrows raise at this and desperately hoped he hadn't said something stupid. 

Garook exchanged a few whispers with the goblin immediately to his left and then said, "Thank you.Harry.  We were just in a meeting, yet again, with the esteemed Minister and his assistant."  The goblin looked very displeased as he said this.  "Frankly, we've lost count of how many meetings he's taken the liberty to arrange with us and we were just wondering how to deal with him, yet again, when we got word you were here.  He was, just moments ago, ushered out of this room and is being detained while we speak with you."  He leaned forward now across the table and Harry wasn't sure what was coming next.  "The truth is, Mister Potter-I'm sorry-Harry.  The truth is-we've checked and while we owe our clients the strictest of confidentiality and security in their transactions and dealings, we actually are under no such agreement with our _discussions_ with the Ministry, including the Minister himself. 

"We wish to make an exchange with you.  We'll tell you the information that pertains to what the Minister has, perhaps unwisely, informed us that he is seeking and you make him cease his efforts to stimulate a revision to the working charter for Gringotts Wizarding Bank."

"Er.I." Harry had no clue how he could manage to make the Minister of Magic do anything. No one paid him any heed.

A goblin beside Garook spoke and said, "As a branch, we here in London are feeling enormous pressures from the collective international governors of Gringotts.  As a whole, not one of us supports any amendments to our charter-we've no intention of revising the way _we_ do business until wizards wish to revise the way _they_ do business with us-but that's another matter entirely."

Garook said, "The Minister has just recently confided in us that he is obliged to press onward in his attempts until he gains access to certain things in one particular vault.  We're hoping if we give this information to you, that you can arrange a way to influence his efforts."  Each of the seven goblins were now leaning forward and looking hopeful at Harry.  George gulped audibly.

"I.I have no idea, sir, how _I_ could influence the Minister of Magic," Harry said, completely flummoxed. 

"All we need is your word, Mister-Harry-that you'll try."

Harry ran a hand through his hair nervously.  They wanted his word that he'd try.that was almost worse than just saying they believed he'd just think of something.  He felt terribly out of his league here and was sure they were either having him on or completely out of their minds.  "I don't understand why you think I can help," he said searchingly.   "I mean.I may be famous, my name is known and everyone knows who I am but I don't know why you think I can help.  Sure I have money and all but that's just because more than a few people have died on me and left me with nothing but gold.  What can you possibly expect from me?" he asked.  

"We expect, Harry, that if you wanted to, you could exert a great deal of influence over any number of people--including the Minister," Ragnok said slowly.  

Garook nodded and said, "Yes and we _trust_ that if you give us your word, then you will do your best to make good on it."

Harry looked at George who was pale-faced and just shrugged; completely no help at all.  Vaguely, Harry wondered why he had to be in here alone, with no other members of the Inner Council who could give him any advice.  Where's Dumbledore when you need him?  Harry took a deep breath and decided honesty was his best bet.  "I still don't think I can promise you much.  You understand, I believe that Bill-who you've passed along messages through to get to me, and myself, even George here-we're all part of an Order that has a very specific aim in mind.  Our focus is dedicated to one thing and that's to bring down Voldemort."  George and all the goblins winced; Harry even felt Dobby clutch reflexively at his trouser hem.  "And, well, while what you say about me quite possibly being capable of exerting influence over the Ministry may be true, you have to understand that I'm a part of this Order and anything I would do would be after discussion with our Council.  Our aims are one and must remain focused.  I can promise to bring it up-I will certainly do that.  But I can't guarantee you of _what_ I can do or that _I_ can do much at all.  It will be up to our Council what could be done."  Harry looked at the goblins, hoping they understood he was only sixteen and that they really couldn't expect too much.  

Garook nodded once and said, "It may help you to know that we believe the information we have to exchange may benefit the aims of your Order."

Harry looked at George again; he nodded like he wanted to know what they had to say.  Harry looked back to the goblins.  Garook was looking at him smugly, as if he already knew Harry would agree.   Some of the others looked a bit fidgety or nervous as they waited.  "You understand I'm bound to, er, the priority of the Order?" Harry said.  Garook nodded once.  "Well, then I guess I can promise you that I will bring the matter to them and see what I can do."

"That is all we ask," Garook said solemnly.  

Sajak then spoke and announced, "The Minister has confided to us that he seeks to gain possession of all books from the vault of Lucius Malfoy.  He claims this as his only aim and the reason for all his persistence to gain entry to this one vault."  

"Books," Harry said.  "Books from Lucius Malfoy's vault?"  The goblins all nodded.   "Well, all right then."  He didn't know what else to say. 

But he was saved from having to say anything because all the goblins then stood up and, after each of them shook both Harry's and George's hand, left out a side door of the room.  Only Sajak remained and said to Harry, "You said you had other business and forms to drop off?"  

Harry nodded and George, still blinking in stunned disbelief at everything, said, "Yeah, I was in last week to try to set up a corporate crediting account.  You know so we can accept those bags like Harry has?  My brother and I came in and were told we didn't have all the forms complete.  They said since we were such a small and young business, that we'd have to provide extra--"

"I'll be right back," the goblin said, nodding.  

He left the room and a moment later, Dobby bounced out from under the table and handed George the bag that contained all his stacks and stacks of parchments.  Dobby held a long finger to his lips and said, "Shhh," before disappearing again beneath the table.  

A moment later Sajak reappeared and handed over a small, palm-sized mat to George.  The mat had the familiar Gringotts emblem on it.  "There you go, Mister Weasley.  Just set that on your counter and any customer with our crediting accounts can use it on site.  We'll put you down in our listing of businesses that accept credit payments via owl orders, too, if it is your wish."

George looked dumbstruck.  "Er, yeah," he said, staring at the mat in his hand.  "Oh, but what about all these forms we had to fill out?" he asked holding up the bag.  

Sajak waved a hand and said, "Leave them there.  We trust everything is in order."  George thanked the goblin profusely and Harry had to remind him they needed to get moving.  Finally, they managed to leave the bank, George still in awe that simply having Harry with him had gotten him an account he and Fred had been trying to get for months.  

"Blimey, Harry," George said, shaking his head once they were back out in Diagon Alley.  "One little trip to the bank with you leads to a meeting with a chief governor of Gringotts, a plot to influence the Minister of Magic and a corporate crediting account in the blink of an eye!  You don't go anything by half, do you?"  

Harry rolled his eyes and gave him a look.  "Don't start," he said.  "Can't help it if stuff always happens to me," he mumbled.  Harry couldn't even begin to fathom what had all just happened in the room with those seven Gringotts goblins.  

George laughed and slapped him on the back.  "Ah, well, Fred will be over the moon!  This will help especially with owl orders and _especially_ with international orders."  He stopped and looked at Harry, serious, and said, "I can't thank you enough, Harry."  

Harry nodded and checked his watch.  He saw it was half-past eleven now and said, "We need to hurry.  Dobby?  Are you here?"  He looked down and around and saw Dobby bounce out around his legs and grin up at him.

"Dobby is here and keeping an eye on Harry Potter, sir!"

"Well all right, but I'll need to go into a muggle shop next.  Can you wait in the Leaky Cauldron when we get there, Dobby?"

Dobby stopped and looked up at Harry.  "Dobby can make sure he is not being seen by no one.  Dobby will stay with Harry Potter."

Harry didn't care.  They had to get moving if he was to make it back before Hermione and Tonks returned to Grimmauld Place.  "Okay."  He turned to George and said, "There're all sorts of shops on Charing Cross, I know-just outside the Leaky Cauldron.  Come on-let's Apparate to the back courtyard there." Harry grabbed George's sleeve and pulled him off to the side and _popped!_ as they reappeared in the back courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron pub.  

"Just pull me along, why don't ya," George muttered, giving Harry a sidelong look.  

They crossed through the pub quickly and stepped out into the busy Charing Cross Road.  Harry found a record shop just beside the dingy entrance to the Leaky Cauldron and went in there to ask where he could find a personal stereo of sorts to purchase.  The clerk, who George thought was way wicked as he had piercings in his eyebrow, nose and tongue and, not to mention had hair to rival Tonks' most outrageous styles, told Harry they should try a shop across the street and down a bit towards the river.  

Harry had to remind George he was supposed to be keeping an eye out and not gaping at all sorts of strange muggle displays as they walked down the street.  Once in the shop, Harry quickly located what he was looking for and asked George for his opinion of which sort his dad would like better.  

"This is for my dad?" George asked.  Harry nodded.  "Boy, would he love this then."  George picked up a tape player that had a corded plug and had a sticker that read, 'Runs on Batteries, too!'  George turned the box over and read, "Records sounds from a built-in microphone or from an auxiliary input-"  He looked up blankly at Harry.  "I have no clue what the hell they're talking about, but I know Dad would go mad for it."  Harry grinned and nodded.  It was just minutes before noon.

They purchased the tape player and George said he'd have to come back and find other stuff he knew his dad would love as they left the busy shop.  Back on Charing Cross, they walked back the same way they'd come and had to weave through a noon-hour crowd of holiday shoppers that was just as thick as the crowds in Diagon Alley.   

"You need me to pop back with you?" George asked as they returned to the Leaky Cauldron.  Harry had already told George he wanted to not have Hermione and Tonks know he'd been out at all if he could help it. 

Dobby tugged on the bag in Harry's hand.  "Well, it'd be good if they're already back.  They'd see I _did_ have someone with me when I was out," Harry said, as he gave the bag to Dobby and watched as the elf shoved it under his jumper like it was no bigger than a spoon.

"Well, come on then," George said, grinning.  

They Disapparated from the pub and reappeared in the entry hall of Grimmauld Place.  Seeing no one, Harry quickly slipped off his cloak, his gloves and hung them up, along with his scarf, on the hall tree.  

"Anyone here?" George asked quietly, peering up and around the staircase.  

Harry shrugged, looking up the stairs along with George.  "No idea yet."  Harry checked his watch, saw it was ten-past noon and breathed a sigh of relief--he'd made it.

George turned to grin at Harry then and said, "So, any clue yet how you plan to blackmail Fudge?"

"Blackmail!  Who said anything about blackmail?" Harry asked.  

George smirked.  "Well, I say I dig up some old photos of ickle Percy-the-Prat and we threaten Fudge to expose his Junior Undersecretary--Arselicker--whatever--as a ninny who sucked his thumb until he was seven.  Mum just _loves_ to share our old baby photos!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh at the thought of baby pictures of Percy showing up in the Daily Prophet.  "George, somehow, I think you'd better stick to trying to blackmail poor sods like Bagman," Harry teased pointedly.

"Oh yeah?  Well, ask yourself--where's old Ludo now, eh?"  George tried to look smug and mysterious but failed miserably as Harry just laughed at him.  

"Tut, tut," a familiar sneering voice said.  Harry's eyes closed and his stomach dropped--Snape.  "Could this be?  Our Golden Boy and only hope for a future is turning to petty crime?"  _Of all the people to show up now in Grimmauld Place._

"Well," George said, grimacing and clapping Harry on the back.  "I'll be seeing you then, mate," he said before Disapparating abruptly with a _crack_!

Harry turned around towards the door to the basement kitchen and sneered back at the smugly triumphant look on Snape's face.  But before Harry could bite out some scathing remark about Snape keeping his greasy great nose to himself, two loud _pops!_ announced the return of Tonks and Hermione.  

"Oh, Harry!  Guess what?  _Guess what!!_" Hermione cried as she immediately spied Harry.   "I passed, I passed!" she shrilly shouted into his ear as she threw her arms around his neck and squeezed until he had to cough for air.  

"Her--Hermione!" Harry said, trying to loosen her arms from his neck.  "Of _course_ you passed--you're _Hermione_," he said, rolling his eyes and laughing as he finally got her to let go and saw her beaming face.  

Hermione began to move in to kiss him but a scathing voice interrupted, saying, "Miss Granger, please confine your pubescent hormonal urges to places where civilized folk with common standards for decency--"

"Stuff it, Snape!" Tonks said, crossing her arms and glaring at the git.  "It's not _your_ house and you can hit the road if you don't like it!"  Harry cheered inwardly for Tonks and gloated over Snape's astonishment that anyone would dare speak to him like that.  

Snape snapped his mouth shut and glared at Harry, but, thankfully, Kingsley and Mad-Eye Moody walked in through the door just then.  The entry hall was bustling with people taking off their cloaks and Tonks and Hermione immediately asked why they were all here.  Moody and Harry both started telling them that Dumbledore had called a twelve-thirty meeting to go over some news.  Harry tugged Hermione along to the stairs to head down to the basement where they would meet.  Harry hoped to avoid being around Snape were the git was likely to announce to everyone he found Harry and George plotting to overthrow the Ministry or some other such nonsense.  

Harry was surprised to see Professor Dumbledore already seated at the worn table in the basement kitchen.  Dumbledore immediately gave Harry a piercing gaze over the top of his half-moon glasses that made Harry suspect the old man had been there for a while and knew Harry hadn't been around the whole morning.  Dumbledore moved on then and smiled at Hermione as he asked, "Might I presume, Miss Granger that you've extended your streak for achieving a perfect test record?"  Hermione beamed at him as she sat down at the table and Dumbledore inclined his head as he said, "Congratulations and well done."

"Thank you, sir," Hermione said.  Tonks, Moody, Kingsley and Snape all soon followed down the stairs.  

Harry looked around and, trying to meet Dumbledore's eyes as best he could, said, "I'm not sure Remus will make it.  He expected to be at St. Mungo's until late this evening."

"I am aware of that," Dumbledore said.  "Thank you, Harry, though.  I did speak with Remus earlier and you should expect him back more towards late afternoon.  I trust you will fill him in on what we discuss here today?"  Harry nodded.  Harry was deeply regretting his going out from the house now and very much wished he'd just stayed put.  He was feeling much like a child who'd broken something valuable and knew it was only matter of time before his crime was exposed.  

"Is this all we are waiting for, Headmaster?" Snape asked, sealing the door with his wand and then striding to the head of the table like he was about to begin a class and start barking out orders.    

"Yes, Severus, this is all." Dumbledore faced down the table and said to the others gathered there, "I want to thank you for all managing to meet so quickly today.  As most of you saw in your post this morning, through Severus' associates and his recent summons to Lord Voldemort this very morning, we've procured intelligence of an impending series of attacks planned for this evening.  However, before you begin to brief everyone on your news, Severus, I also have some news to share from last night."  Snape sat reluctantly at the head of the table, warily eyeing Dumbledore.

Dumbledore sighed heavily then and, for once, looked his age as he met every eye at the table before announcing, "Lord Voldemort has begun employing the use of the Dementors."  Harry was shocked to hear this.  Why didn't anyone say anything about this sooner?  "Last night," Dumbledore began, "and through this morning, there have been a continual series of attacks upon muggle communities where muggleborn witches and wizards reside."

"Was anyone _kissed_?" Tonks asked, looking shaken.  

Dumbledore nodded solemnly.  "I am afraid so.  The news is just now breaking out about this in the muggle world.  As far as we know, the Dementors have not had much to feed on for some time now.  I've been able to surmise, with the help of Severus, some old friends, and a recent brief chat with Amelia, that small groups of Death Eaters were working alongside these scattered teams of Dementors.  The Dementors apparently were allowed to._feed_ _at will_ in these muggle communities."  Harry felt Hermione clutch at his hand and he instinctively clutched back.  "Any muggleborn witches or wizards were killed by the Death Eaters before their corpses were left lying beneath a glowing Dark Mark."

"How, Albus, could we only be hearing this now?" Kingsley asked.  "I'm sorry," he apologized for the interruption and went on, "But Albus, if the Mark goes up, we've got a system to track that and instigate a team of responders.  How could we not have heard about this sooner?"

Dumbledore nodded.  "Yes, yes, normally that is the case.  However, that system is tied into muggles _witnessing_ the Dark Mark.  It was set up to help the Ministry assign response priority among simultaneous incidents.  You see, last night, several communities were hit with what the muggles are calling a sort of 'virus'.  The Dementors, in their feedings, left a slew of shrunken and rapidly decaying corpses of all the muggles they killed."  

The sudden image of what this would look like struck Harry.  He knew very well the descriptions of those kissed by Dementors.  If a witch or wizard was kissed, he or she would lose their soul and their body would slowly rot and decay until it was the very thing that had stolen its soul--another Dementor.  However, if a muggle was kissed, they would of course die; but also, their soulless bodies would immediately shrivel up, blacken and begin to rot away until they turned to ash.  

"You see, Kingsley," Dumbledore said after a brief moment.  "There were no muggles left around in the immediate vicinity to witness any of the Dark Marks."

To say this new development was depressing was a gross understatement. The Dementors were a dangerous and formidable weapon that Voldemort had at his disposal.   There was no telling the amount of death and destruction that could be spread by their reign of terror.   Moody was the one to finally break the stunned silence.  "Well," he said gruffly.  "What's the word out about tonight?"

Snape, who'd been staring off towards the floor as he sat listening; his legs crossed elegantly and long sallow fingers sharpening a crisp crease in his black robes, now turned swiftly to face the table. His black eyes were cold as they raked over everyone seated at the table.  "A number of people are slated to die tonight," he announced as if he were merely extolling the virtues of asphodel.  "There is nothing we can do about that; their deaths will surely be.unfortunate.  However, I have made the decision to give our Aurors," he nodded at Tonks and Kingsley and now addressed them exclusively, "the chance to intervene in one of these planned attacks.  I shall give you the name of one family that will be attacked tonight.  This shall afford the Ministry ample opportunity to stake out the location and seize at least _some_ of those sent there to do the deed.  I would advise you--"

"Why do_ you _get to_ choose _which family should_ live?_" Harry spat out angrily.  His mind whirled as Snape talked about these deaths in such a cavalier manner.  

"Harry," Dumbledore started.

But Snape was already sneering and drawing himself up tall as he glared at Harry.  "POTTER! Are you daft as a _brush_?" he seethed.  "I am not _choosing_ who lives!  Quite the contrary, boy!  I am choosing who, of the Dark Lord's servants will likely DIE!"  Dumbledore had a hand on Snape's tensely clenched fist that had been slammed down upon the table.  "Believe me, _Potter_, if the Dark Lord wants someone dead, _they will be dead_!  Now--" Snape turned and focused his burning, fathomless eyes on Tonks and Kingsley again.  "You have a chance to get a group of up to six servants of the Dark Lord.  From what I can tell, they are likely to be privy to his current plans and allies.  As I was trying to warn you, you will need to make choices.  You will need to chose _very_ carefully just which Aurors you decide to present with this._opportunity_."

"Why can't we do it?" Tonks asked.  Her eyes were sparkling with determination and a hunger for vengeance.   

Snape sneered at her.  "By all means, if it is your wish, you may seek the glory of capturing yet more servants of the Dark Lord.  But you should keep in mind just how much you've already lost, quite possibly because you've already openly allied yourself against the Dark Lord."  Tonks looked fit to kill.  Snape smirked and said, "If it were I, I would chose one or two well-skilled Aurors, but ones who do not have family or perhaps ones you would not miss if they were to become a._an example_ from the Dark Lord."  Snape's eyes grew even colder then and, in his most deadly calm voice, said, "Tonight's attacks are varied and the capture of any Death Eaters from this attack will surely implicate me as the likeliest leak.  The Dark Lord will assume I have given this intelligence to Dumbledore and his Order.  Whichever Auror gets the honour of capturing any Death Eaters will be marked to the Dark Lord as most likely a member of this Order.  With the impending influx of new recruits soon to join the war, he will most surely wish to make clear the penalties for opposing him.  I do not._recommend_ being the one bestowed with this._honour_."

Harry glared at Snape and hated the man for how utterly cold and heartless he was.  This bastard couldn't possibly be human. "You still haven't explained why you choose this _one_ family to be spared," Harry said coldly. "Oh--excuse me--_temporarily_ spared.   _Sir_."   

Snape blinked languidly and, after a moment sucking on the inside of his cheek, said, "I've not chosen based upon the target of the attack, but on the wager that those carrying out the attack will render the most valuable information."  For a long moment, Harry's eyes locked with Snape's.  Harry felt himself being pulled into those fathomless black orbs until he suddenly was struck with the vivid image of Voldemort's very own intensely red eyes.  Snape smirked at Harry's sudden falter in their little staring contest and Harry burned as he knew he'd just been played by a master Occlumens.  

Moody began engaging Kingsley in a discussion of which Aurors might be the best bets for being put on this task.  Tonks was shaking and muttering about how she couldn't even begin to make such a choice while Hermione tried to calm and console her.  Harry still glared at Snape out of the corner of his eye as Dumbledore leaned over and asked their spy something in private.  _Just look at him_, Harry though.  _He enjoys this!  He's probably thrilled he gets to tell everyone what to do and play god_._  Greasy.no good.son of a--_  

Snape rose then and stalked over to Moody and Kingsley where he pulled out something from deep within a pocket of his robes.  He stiffly held out his hand to Kingsley and said, "Do not use the Ministry's Veritaserum.  Use this.  This is purposefully sub-par to avoid implicating myself but well potent enough to be more than effective.  Five drops--no more, no less.  Any captives must be interrogated immediately and without delay."  

Snape turned then to leave but was stopped as he reached the door by Dumbledore saying, "Severus?  Have you spoken to Harry yet?"

Harry turned and, even though Snape was facing away from him, he could hear the snarl before he turned around.  "No, Headmaster Dumbledore, I did _not_ have the pleasure of speaking with Potter.  Perhaps, I might have if he'd have been here at headquarters this morning as he was supposed to have been.  However, it seems Potter, _yet again_, believes himself above the rules and was out gallivanting around with Weasley."

"What?" Hermione said shrilly.  Harry was willing to bet he could perform a most excellent Cruciatus Curse right about now.  

"Severus," Dumbledore said in a disapproving tone as he rose and stepped over to Snape.  Dumbledore quickly looked back at Harry; that piercing look over his glasses again.  "Harry?" he asked crisply.

"I can explain, sir," he said with clenched teeth and barely controlled loathing for Snape.  He vaguely heard Hermione question him again about what they were talking about but he chose to ignore this.  

"I am sure you can, Harry," Dumbledore said.  "However, I must insist that you allow Professor Snape to give you a last bit of information.  Please, have a word with him in private."  

It wasn't a request and the only thing making it at all tolerable was the fact that Snape now seemed even more livid.  "Hurry up, Potter!" he barked.  "Upstairs--I haven't got all day!" 

Dumbledore kept a stern gaze upon Harry as he walked past him and followed, at a steady pace up the stairs, behind the billowing robes of Snape. Up in the entry hall, Snape grabbed Harry's elbow and yanked him over to a far corner near the dining room and whipped out his wand.  If Snape hadn't had a death grip on Harry's wand arm, Harry would have drawn his wand as well, prepared to curse the bastard.  Lucky for Harry though, Snape merely conjured a privacy bubble around them and then snarled at his most intimidating glare.  

"You have something to say me, _sir_?" Harry prompted; eyes narrowed.  

"Hold your tongue, Potter, and perhaps I'll tell you what you need to know."  Snape made Harry wait in stony silence for a long moment before continuing.  "There is one more impending _attack_ about which you might wish to know."  Snape's lip curled as he looked down his long hooked nose at Harry.    "The Dark Lord seems to believe you are invulnerable to his attacks on your mind while you reside at Hogwarts.  He inquired as to how much progress you had made in mastering Occlumency.  He is aware you've been studying now under the tutelage of Dumbledore and has remarked that he has had no success in entering your mind these past few months."  

Snape eyed Harry coolly.  "The Dark Lord, and I might add that I agree, seems to believe the shields you have about your mind are strongest when you are within Hogwarts.  You should be prepared for him to attempt to break into your mind now that he knows you are no longer there."  Snape's eyes began to glitter now and his voice dropped to a hiss.  "And believe me Potter, just this very morning he was only merely _wondering_ if you might not be within Hogwarts' defenses.  Now, after your brazen jaunt about town, you can be most certain that _someone_ saw you and that the Dark Lord now knows for certain you are indeed in London.  Still think your stroll about was worth it?"  

"Possibly," Harry said defiantly.  "I now have news for the Inner Council concerning Fudge and his motives for getting into a certain Death Eater's vault at Gringotts.  However.I believe you were insisting that you didn't have all day just moments ago, so perhaps I should let you get on your way."  

Harry looked loftily at Snape but was slammed up against a wall, long sallow fingers choking about his neck, before he could even cross his arms over his chest.  Snape hissed, inches from Harry's face, "_Listen, Potter--I've a meeting with a white mask in less than a half hour so if you've anything of worth to say before I drop you to the floor_--TELL ME NOW!"

Harry Disapparated from within Snape's grasp with a _pop!_ and reappeared on the other side on the entry hall with his wand draw and panting heavily.  

"_EXPELLIARMUS_!" Snape bellowed.

Harry Disapparated yet again and this time reappeared just a few feet in front of Snape.  "_STUPEFY_!" Harry yelled, sending a jet of red light at Snape and then dodging away, anticipating it to be deflected.  But Snape had Disapparated, mimicking Harry, and let the Stunner take a chunk out of the wallboard.  He hissed something unintelligible, charging straight at Harry.  

"_Protego_!" Harry responded, trying to deflect the silver sparks he saw shooting at him.  But his gleaming blue shield did nothing to stop them and they cut right through, striking his face and slicing like tiny razors.  Harry, momentarily shocked, held a hand up to his cheek and felt warm and wet blood.  

The rage boiled within his veins now and he went to curse Snape but was stunned to find his arms pinned to his side with yet another spell he never saw nor knew.  Snape, smirking and eyes alight with a fire Harry'd never before seen, stalked up to him like a hunter moving in for his kill. 

Harry couldn't Disapparate; he'd been jinxed.  He couldn't move; his feet were rooted to the floor.  

Snape snarled as he pointed his wand at Harry's head and said, "_Legilli_--"

"STOP THIS AT ONCE!" a voice roared.  Harry saw Snape's wand fly off in one direction while Snape himself flew backwards in the other.  Dumbledore was now standing in the middle of the entry hall and Harry, still fighting to move anything at all, had never seen the aged wizard looking so enraged.  


	38. Chapter 41 What Madness Lurks

Chapter 41.  What Madness Lurks

~

"_Protego_!" Harry responded, trying to deflect the silver sparks he saw shooting at him. But his gleaming blue shield did nothing to stop them and they cut right through, striking his face and slicing like tiny razors. Harry, momentarily shocked, held a hand up to his cheek and felt warm and wet blood. 

The rage boiled within his veins now and he went to curse Snape but was stunned to find his arms pinned to his side with yet another spell he never saw nor knew. Snape, smirking and eyes alight with a fire Harry'd never before seen, stalked up to him like a hunter moving in for his kill. 

Harry couldn't Disapparate; he'd been jinxed. He couldn't move; his feet were rooted to the floor. 

Snape snarled as he pointed his wand at Harry's head and said, "_Legilli_-"

"STOP THIS AT ONCE!" a voice roared. Harry saw Snape's wand fly off in one direction while Snape himself flew backwards in the other. Dumbledore was now standing in the middle of the entry hall and Harry, still fighting to move anything at all, had never seen the aged wizard looking so enraged. 

~

~

Harry could see, and even feel, Dumbledore's fury-whether it was truly anger or frustration pushed beyond its considerable limits, he couldn't tell.  Dumbledore had been focused on Snape, who was now awkwardly crumpled against the far wall and groggily pushing at the floor to keep himself up.  Dumbledore turned then, stone-faced, towards Harry and the very air, hot and suffocating, seemed to be crushing in around him.  Even more alarming, a roiling heat from within Harry surged and felt like it was about to burst into flames.  Panic swept over him and he sought to plead with Dumbledore to help him-to do anything-_anything_.  But to his horror, no words could he speak.   Desperately, he hoped Dumbledore would see the panic through his eyes but then, Harry's world dissolved to black.

"The Furious Curse-guess that's one I never taught him about.  Eh-he'll know it now."  

Moody's gruff voice made Harry's eyes fly open and his head throb.  He was lying on his back looking up at the ceiling in the entry hall of Grimmauld Place.  He felt overheated and sweat made the shirt beneath his jumper cling to him uncomfortably; it felt like he was in a sauna and the cool floor beneath him was a relief.  His head was aching; splitting and throbbing right along- "My scar." he rasped.  He couldn't remember his scar hurting since.

"Harry," came Dumbledore's concerned voice.  Harry soon saw Professor Dumbledore kneel beside him and peer down at him.  The headmaster looked gravely concerned and quietly asked, "Is it bothering you now?  Did anything-"  He stopped abruptly as Harry, meeting his eyes a moment, then reached a hand up to his head.  Harry's fingers, feeling cool to the touch, gingerly ran down the familiar jagged mark on his forehead.   He couldn't think straight with the stifling heat and he abruptly sat up, hastily pulling his woollen jumper up and over his head.   "Alastor," Dumbledore said quietly and eyeing the discarded jumper upon the floor.  "Please leave us for a few moments and make sure no one else comes up here."  

Moody's uneven steps could be heard then crossing the entry hall and descending the stairs to the basement.  Harry had his eyes shut now as he still massaged his scar and tried to understand what had just happened.  The last thing he recalled was.Snape had been there and had hit him with some binding spell.

"Harry," Dumbledore said.  Harry looked up at him and saw the headmaster was still kneeling beside him but keeping his gaze from meeting Harry's.  "I must ask you to calm yourself and clear your mind."

"Where's Snape?" Harry demanded.  His memory of what had just happened was clearing now and Harry was not going to let Snape get away with what he'd done.

"Not yet, Harry."

Anger flared.  "No-I want to know-"

"Harry-I know you have questions, but please trust me when I ask you to clear your mind first.  We must be certain that all those questions in your mind are yours and yours alone."

These words, along with Dumbledore's calm insistence and unwillingness to meet his eyes, now instilled a chilling fear deep within Harry.  He felt a certain shame and guilt at the possibility that he'd allowed a breach of his mind's shields.   _But.how.?_  But no, he couldn't think on this now.  He had to clear his mind.  Harry leaned back upon the floor and closed his eyes to begin his ritual of deep breathing to calm his mind.  Every intake of breath was a calming wash of air within his mind; each exhale, another layer erected to strengthen the walls about his mind.  

After several minutes of this Harry, who was now shivering, opened his eyes and sat up.  "Where is Snape?" he asked as soon as he spotted Dumbledore standing a few feet away near the hall table.  He noticed, now for the first time, that the portrait of Phineas Nigellus had been moved from an upstairs bedroom and the former headmaster of Hogwarts could be seen watching Harry keenly from just over Dumbledore's shoulder. 

Dumbledore stepped over to Harry, lending a hand to pull him to his feet, and said, "I asked him to leave.  Do you know what just happened, Harry?" 

"Yeah, Snape attacked me," Harry said bitterly.  He was still shivering so he picked up his discarded jumper from the floor and pulled it back on.  "Where did he go?  When-how-how long was I out?"  Harry wrapped his arms around himself in an attempt to warm himself.  

Dumbledore was looking at Harry intently and now sighed deeply.  "Did Professor Snape tell you his news about Voldemort's intentions to test the shields about your mind now?"

"Yeah, yeah he said he thinks they won't be as strong as when I'm at Hogwarts."  Harry frowned at this.  He wasn't in the mood for one of Dumbledore's long, drawn-out inquisitions and so he said, "Look, he told me what he had tell me.  I was about to tell him some information that I got."  Harry looked up sharply now at Dumbledore and asked, "He's gone-you're sure?  He won't be back before.before-you know?"

Harry hadn't really intended to keep the goblins' news from Snape; no-especially not now when any sort of intelligence about anyone's motives might be crucial.  Harry felt a sickening swoop of regret about not properly communicating this news when it might have been important for Snape to know.  An even stronger surge of anger and contempt for Snape swept away this regret.  Why couldn't the bastard just take as good as he gave?  Why did he have to always see every little word and nuance as a battle for supremacy and dominance? _Greasy.no good.son of a--_  

"Harry, I asked him to leave immediately after I Stunned you.  He needed to-"

"Stunned me?  Why would you stun me?"

"To stop the curse he'd put on you," Dumbledore said simply.  He frowned and then said, "He was most definitely not thinking-not that he could have known," Dumbledore trailed off, almost musing to himself.

"Know what?  What curse?" Harry asked.

"Ah, the Furious Curse," Dumbledore said.  "It's a jinx technically, but the effect when placed upon another person is that of a curse.  I would imagine you've never read about it."  Dumbledore seemed to have adopted his professorial tone for now and paced a few steps with his arms clasped behind his back.

"No, no I don't think so."

"Ah, well, it would most definitely be classified as Dark Arts."  He turned to Harry and explained, "You've studied, of course, about Parasitic Enchantments, yes?"  Harry nodded.  "This is related.  It involves a manipulation of the very magic a person possesses and uses that as the magical energy source for a spell.  The Furious Curse is one where this parasitic manipulation has been combined with a variant of the Impediment Jinx.  The victim's very own magic is manipulated to fuel the spell and prevent them from doing anything they might attempt to do.  If you try to step away, you can't move.  If you try to speak, your throat will freeze up.  If you tried to Disapparate, your very own magic would be keeping you there.  Of course, this is very frustrating to the victim and with the increase of one's frustrations-or fury-there is an increase in the raw amount of magical energy available to fuel the curse.  Used against someone with a volatile temperament and considerable power-it can escalate with rapid and unpredictable results."  Dumbledore looked pointedly at Harry now as he said, "So you see now why I Stunned you to stop the curse."

Harry nodded slowly.  Sure he was pissed as hell at Snape but another part of him was amazed at the brilliance of the curse.  "How is it cast?  What's the incantation?" he asked as his mind recalled the utter feeling of helplessness and increasing panic.  "How is it countered?"

"Ah-a much better question," Dumbledore said.  The look on his face was unreadable.  "It's countered by you recognizing it for what it is and calming yourself and your magic.  Total shielding of your mind to prevent your thoughts from freezing up and then retract your magic and regain control of it.  To be countered, it requires an incredible amount of self-discipline."  He paused a moment and then said, "I'd recommend you focus on reminding yourself how it's countered and leave it at that, Harry."

"But-"

"The Dark Arts are nothing to be taken lightly," Dumbledore said evenly.  "The definition of Dark and Light Arts is vague at best.  Some spells are considered dark or evil because of the effect they have on someone or something.  The Unforgivables-surely you can guess other spells might be used to cause someone pain, kill or control another-however, it's the matter of the emotion and _intent_ of these spells that makes them so unforgivable.   But there is another, all together more common characteristic that might cause a spell to be classified as 'Dark Arts'-unpredictable.  Unpredictable magic is dangerous, Harry-I cannot stress that enough."

Dumbledore looked long and hard at Harry.  "You're saying that spell was unpredictable?" Harry asked.  He still wanted to know how to cast it, though.

"Yes, and I am saying you'd do well to steer clear of unpredictable spells." 

"But Snape-"

"Should never have used such a spell on you and I will deal with him later."

"But you just let him get away with it now!"

"No, I asked him to leave.  It was clear you and he being in each other's presence would accomplish nothing more than inflame your already tenuous working relationship.  Plus, when I saw you struggling under the curse, it was apparent that-well, that Professor Snape needed to leave headquarters and your presence immediately."  

Harry couldn't read the look on Dumbledore's face again and he scrutinized the old wizard's face.  "Why did you assume the shields about my mind were down or breeched when I awoke?"

"If I am not mistaken, his next spell was one to break into your mind."

"And if I'd made an effort to fortify the shields-?"

"-They would have instead only weakened under the Furious Curse, yes."  Dumbledore nodded.  Dumbledore, slowly and almost cautiously looked over at Harry.  "There is another reason.one that I thought perhaps.you mentioned your scar hurt when you awoke?"

"Yes.?" said Harry quietly as he wondered what Dumbledore had thought.  He'd never seen Dumbledore look so speculative.

Dumbledore sighed heavily and Harry waited for him to speak.  "The connection," Dumbledore gestured at the scar upon Harry's head and paused a moment.  "I believe the scar you bear has resulted in some of Lord Voldemort's powers being transferred to you-such as the ability to speak Parseltongue.   We've discussed that before."  Harry nodded slowly.  "The scar still links you to him today.  You've experienced his dreams and occasionally seen through his eyes and we suspect, before your skills in Occlumency were honed, he'd found occasion see through yours.  There exists a link, Harry, between yourself and Lord Voldemort.  A link not only between your minds but also, I believe, between your magic to a certain extent."

Harry's mind sluggishly mulled over these words.  "But what does-"

"Have you not always awoke from a dream of Voldemort's with pain in your scar?"  Harry nodded.  "Have you not always felt something in your scar anytime you've experienced the link to Voldemort?"  Harry nodded again. "And you felt pain just before, upon waking up."

"And you think Voldemort used that chance to break into my mind?"  _Of course, Snape **had** just told him that had been Voldemort's intent.but was that a coincidence.?_  "Do you think Snape planned that?  Was he _told_ to do that?"  It couldn't be just a coincidence.

"No," Dumbledore frowned.  "That is not my belief."  He looked intently at Harry again before saying, "Remember what I explained about the Furious Curse, Harry?  How it draws upon the magical power of a person and uses it to fuel itself?"

Harry nodded and then his jaw dropped as Dumbledore's implications suddenly hit him.  "You mean.?  You think.?  But-Professor-" Harry was shaking his head in unaccepting disbelief.  "You think that somehow, _through me_, Voldemort's magic was.?"

"Siphoned through the link, yes, Harry.  Do not misunderstand me-your own powers of magic are considerable and your strength, as well as your temperament, was most likely the very reason Professor Snape," Dumbledore sighed heavily again here, "in your little _duel_, decided to turn those two things against you.  I doubt very much he considered or could have imagined the ramifications of such a spell.  Professor Snape is the very last person who would wish to be seen through your eyes if in fact Lord Voldemort did feel some pull at the link and allowed his mind to be open and perhaps link to yours."  Dumbledore shook his head gravely.  "Especially today and now when he was here to give us intelligence on Lord Voldemort's plans."

"Voldemort will know he's been spying?"  Harry hated that he felt any fear (much less culpability) at this thought.  It's not that he cared what happened to Snape; he just knew it would hurt the Order to lose their spy.

"Voldemort knows you, myself and the Order believe Severus to be our spy.  However, Lord Voldemort, I'm quite sure, also will demand explanations for Severus to have been in your presence today when he had quite specific orders to be elsewhere.  When I told Professor Snape to leave, I warned him he might expect Voldemort to know about that curse and what happened." 

Harry had a very bad feeling about how Voldemort would treat a servant who disobeyed his orders or, even worse, one who might have made a detour to speak with Harry or other members of the Order of the Phoenix on a day when he should have been working on preparing for attacks.  

"I didn't get a chance to tell him what I found out this morning," Harry said quietly.  "I have no idea if it would have been of any help or importance that he knew immediately but."  Harry looked up at Dumbledore and said, "I was in Gringotts this morning and met with several Goblins."  Dumbledore blinked twice, his silver eyebrows arching upwards towards his hairline.  

Harry turned and paced a few steps as he said, "I suspect you already know I went out this morning."  Harry didn't bother to look at Dumbledore as he said this but heard Phineas snort loudly from his portrait.  "I'd been planning to go out this afternoon-Remus knew and Tonks was going to go with me.  But then I got the post about our meeting this afternoon and I knew she'd not have time to go with me so I got George to go with.  Remus said all I needed to go out was another member of the Order-anyway-he went with me to Gringotts.  I needed to exchange some gold and he needed to drop off some papers for an account thing."

Harry stopped pacing now and faced Dumbledore.  "When the goblin at the exchange window saw who I was, he pulled us into the back.  George was with me the whole time.   Anyway, we went back and met with seven goblins-one was Garook, the chief governor.  There was, er, Sajak-he was the one who I spoke with this summer when I was at the bank.  Also, Ragnok was there-the one who Bill deals with a lot."

Dumbledore held up a hand and blinked again as he asked, "You spoke with the London Bank Board of Governors this morning?"

"Yes," Harry said emphatically.  "I've already planned to bring this matter to the Inner Council, but the long story made short is that Fudge is still trying to get his way into a vault-one very specific vault.  The goblins said they'd checked the rules and that that they could tell me what it was Fudge had told them-Fudge wants all the books from Lucius Malfoy's vault."

Dumbledore's silver mustache twitched and Harry saw his mouth open, pause and then close again.  It was somewhat satisfying to Harry to believe he'd been able to surprise Dumbledore with something.  

Harry continued on as he watched Dumbledore process this news.  "They, ah, wanted me to promise something in return for this information."  Dumbledore inclined his head sharply and peered over his glasses at Harry.  "It's, er, it's not major.but, er, they asked me to try to do what I can to get Fudge to back down on his efforts to amend their charter."  The stare from Dumbledore was almost growing uncomfortable and Harry rushed on to explain more.  "They said they're getting pressure from the international governors of the bank to stop our Minister's efforts.  I asked them what they expected from me and I explained that I didn't see what I could possibly do, but they were very clear that all they needed was my word that I would try."  Harry took a deep breath as he realized his heart rate had sped up considerably as he'd been speaking.  "I told them my priority was to the Order and defeating Voldemort-I assumed Bill's hinted to as much about the Order's aims.  I told them that I would bring the matter to discussion with my counsel within the Order and that we would do what we could.  That's all I promised and they said they understood."

A knock from the doorway of the stairs that led down to the basement sounded and drew their attention.  Kingsley stood in the doorway and looked hesitant as he said, "Excuse me, but Tonks and I should get moving as soon as we can.  If there's not anything else.?"

"Certainly, Kingsley," Dumbledore said, turning and walking towards the tall Auror.  "We'll come down now and make sure everything is set."  Dumbledore turned to Harry, who'd followed across the entry hall.  "We've much more to discuss on this but we'll see them out first."

"Yes, sir."

In the basement kitchen, Tonks stood grim faced and solemn beside Moody.  Hermione sat across the table, looking worried and questioning all at once as Harry met her gaze.   

"Have you worked out what you are going to tell Amelia?" Dumbledore asked.

Kingsley nodded once.  "We're going to tell her the tip we've got on the Croftons and suggest a mixed team to go on stake out.  I intend to follow along under an Invisibility Cloak as backup.  We plan to prepare Portkeys ahead of time and transport any captives to a secure location for questioning."

"I'm volunteering to do the questioning," Moody growled, stepping forward.  "And I'll have an enchanted quill and parchment hidden nearby to take dictation so even if I'm killed off, there's a record for someone to find."  

"Always cheerful," Tonks muttered.  She looked much better now than when Harry had left earlier. "I'm still not sitting back no matter what _Snape_ says, the git.  If there's risk in someone being recognized as a threat to the big bad Dark Lord, then I'm sure I can still be of help-I'm going undercover with a false identity.  There's no point marking someone else as a target when I can be one that doesn't exist."

Dumbledore sighed and nodded.  "Very well.  Alastor, I'm not positive Amelia will allow you to do the questioning."

"She will if I promise her a safe location no one knows about," Moody replied.  "Kids these days on the force don't know how to investigate and ask the questions.  If she's lucky I'll let one person come along and learn how it's done."

"We should go now to speak with Amelia before she meets to address the next shift," Kingsley said.  

Dumbledore nodded and stepped aside to let them leave.  "Good luck and do come see us tomorrow when the night is over," he said.  "I suspect a report would be very long indeed to write.  I'll imagine I'll be here much of tomorrow."

Harry nodded to each as they left and Tonks gave him a mock salute as she marched out last.  She paused in the doorway though and leaned back in to ask Harry, "Do tell me you got at least one good hit in on Snape before the git left?"  She pointed at Harry's cheek on which he could still feel the sting of a few cuts.

His fingers feeling his cheek, Harry gave a wry, half-smile and shrugged apologetically as he shook his head no.  Tonks looked shocked; as if she'd not expected this for an answer at all.  "Er, I wasn't really trying," he tried to explain.  "Just go on and take care of yourself," he said and waved her out the door.  

The door shut behind Tonks and Harry felt Hermione looking at him and watching; waiting for an answer to everything that had happened.  Harry, though, just felt chilled and walked numbly over towards the crackling fireplace.  Harry's eyes caught upon a small pot of Floo powder that hung from a hook that was twisted into the rough-hewn mantle.  This morning when he'd tossed the powder into the fire and called George seemed more like a week ago.  

"Is anyone going to tell me what happened?" Hermione asked in a shaky voice from the table.  

Harry turned from the fire and saw her biting her lip worriedly and looking, narrow-eyed, between himself and Dumbledore.  

"Harry made a trip into town this morning, and I must confess, it was not completely without my knowledge," Dumbledore said simply and seated himself at the end of the table.  Harry snuck a surprised glance at Hermione and saw she looked slightly disbelieving.  "When Harry decided to alter his schedule for the day after reading the post I'd sent, Phineas saw fit to alert me to his change in plans."  Quickly, Dumbledore added, "There was no harm done in this-it is not rational for me to believe, Harry that you can be kept in confinement and without allowance for freedoms."  

Harry was most surprised to hear this; he thought he'd be chastised for making others worry, abusing trust and for acting rashly.  Dumbledore, as if reading his mind, nodded and smiled at Harry as he said, "Yes, it may have been a bit rash of you but when I thought it over, I realized that you did manage to get a member of the Order to escort you and since you said you only had one of the Weasley twins with you, then surely the other would know that you two had left-that made sure someone else knew were you'd gone and when to expect your return.  There was not much else I could ask for or claim you'd overlooked."

"Who went out with you-Fred or George?" Hermione said shrilly.  She turned and looked at Dumbledore with surprise.  "Surely you can't say going out with one of those two is the same as going out with Remus?!  Or--or--"

Dumbledore nodded once and answered, "Fred and George may not have Alastor's magical eye or esteemed vigilance, nor do they have an Auror's training.  They also do not have Remus' strength or experience but they do however, have a knack for resourcefulness and are loyal to a fault.   They are members of the Order as I am sure you recall."  Hermione looked like she felt compelled to debate this point further, but Dumbledore, who'd pulled out a gold pocket watch from a robe pocket, said, "Now, getting on with business.  Harry, the details of the discussion you had this morning at Gringotts is indeed a matter for the Inner Council.  You can assure me though, that there is no pressing actions required immediately?"

Harry nodded confidently.  "Very well then.  We will need to meet as soon the events of this evening allow us to convene.  Professor McGonagall is out on.personal business for about one more day and with any luck shall return tomorrow. 

"Now, granted there are only but a few students remaining over the holidays at Hogwarts, I have only Professors Sprout and Flitwick to oversee the school at this time, and so, I must return shortly.  However, Harry, you said you had something you wish to discuss with me when we spoke yesterday?  I can spare you." he observed the many hands of his pocket watch and said, ".perhaps an hour of my time for this before I must leave."

Hermione looked to be sputtering silently and Harry suspected what she'd really wanted to know about what had happened upstairs with Snape.   

"Harry?  What was it you needed to talk to me about?" Dumbledore asked, he spared a sidelong glance at Hermione as he asked.

"The voices-I already know," she said.  "Tell him, Harry."  She clearly felt no compulsion to leave the room.

Harry fought the urge to shrug or roll his eyes.  "It hardly seems important now," he said.  "What with everything else going on and I'm sure there's more important-"

"Harry." Hermione said warningly.  

"All right, all right."  Harry scratched the back of his neck and pulled out a chair from the table to sit.  At length, Harry told Dumbledore everything he could remember about the growing presence of the voices within his head.  Hermione took liberty to interject anytime Harry might have left out any small detail.  

Dumbledore sat and listened carefully and without much comment until Harry concluded.  After silence where neither Harry nor Hermione could think of anything else to add, Dumbledore remained thoughtful as he twirled one end of his silver mustache around a long finger.  "Tell me. Harry," he said.  "Do you have any theories as to what or who these voices might be?"

Harry thought back to all the strange personifications he'd attributed to the voices; sometimes he'd thought they'd been lost and searching, other times, restless and worried.  There were even occasions where they sounded persuasive and rousing.   But to Harry, these notions all seemed very ridiculous and were most likely, he thought, to merely be strange and absurd inventions of his mind as he drifted from wakefulness into dreams.   "No sir," Harry answered, shaking his head.  "I can't think of any rational or logical explanations."

Dumbledore actually chuckled at this and said, "Well, Harry, I'm afraid logic and rationale are two things not always consistent with magic nor yourself."  Twinkling, Dumbledore peered over his silver half-moon glasses at Harry.  His smile wavered at Harry's only half-hearted amusement at the comment.  "I think, Harry, that your best bet is to trust yourself and your instincts.  Perhaps you might add your recollections of your experiences with these voices into your journal.  From that, we might be able to see patterns eventually.  Now," he said as he rose from the table.  "I am very pleased you told me about this-but alas, I've no answers as to what it could mean-"

"You don't have _any_ idea at all, Professor?" Hermione interjected.

"Well, I could always dream up some bizarre theory, Hermione.  But I have none that is neither logical nor rational."  Dumbledore twinkled again at Harry.  

"How can you not be alarmed about this?" Hermione nearly shouted.  "Professor-Harry's _hearing voices_ every night even when his mind is _supposedly_ blocked to all external penetration!"

In the shadow of a vague annoyance that Hermione and Dumbledore seemed to be having a conversation about Harry as if he wasn't even there, Harry's thoughts began to wander.  Occlumency blocked his mind but what did Dumbledore just tell him only an hour ago?  That not only his mind but also his _magic_ was connected in some way to Voldemort.

"Harry," Dumbledore said placing a hand upon his shoulder.  "I do need to return to Hogwarts now.  We've discussed.many things today in a short amount of time.  Each topic alone merits a thorough examination and discussion of its own and we should plan to do so in the near future."  Dumbledore looked down solemnly at Harry.  "As far as tonight and the rest of your holiday-I assume, since you have not brought it up, that you do not wish to return to Hogwarts?"

"No," Harry said, frowning.  "Why-because of Voldemort? No."  A part of Harry wanted to know if his mind's shields were strong enough to withstand Voldemort without any assistance from the Hogwarts wards.  But Harry couldn't imagine what, besides information, Voldemort would want from his mind.  "Unless-do you think I should, sir?"  

Harry felt Hermione's questioning stare and he turned to her with a sigh to explain, "Snape told me Voldemort intends to test just how well I can withstand him attacking my mind now over holiday.  Says they think Hogwarts and its protections were helping to hold up my shields."

"Hogwarts and all its protections didn't help Harry last year," Hermione said accusingly to Dumbledore.   _Great, Hermione's in a splendid mood and I get to be alone with her for the rest of the afternoon_, Harry thought sarcastically.   

Dumbledore nodded, conceding, and said, "True, true, however, that was Harry allowing his mind to stray from within its self.  The practice of Occlumency keeps not only others from penetrating, but also keeps one within their own mind."  He paused here and templed his hands before his chest.  "My guess is that Lord Voldemort may either choose to lure Harry to his own mind-" he looked sternly at Harry now, "-and I cannot stress enough how imperative it is for you to remain in your own mind."  Harry nodded.  "It is also a possibility that Voldemort might try to connect to Harry's mind and steal information.  I have complete confidence and faith in Harry's ability as an Occlumens to resist any such attack."  

Dumbledore's confidence was heartening and it did much to disperse any reservations or doubts Harry had.  "I'm staying here.  We'll be fine here."

"Very well then," Dumbledore said.  "And I can also trust that both of you will remain within headquarters tonight and there will be no."  The headmaster paused here and eyed the ceiling as he searched for the words.

Harry, dully, replied, "No plans to save the world, play the hero or generally risk our lives and cause worry."

"Excellent," Dumbledore said and patted Harry on the back.  "You are on holiday, after all and I really must be off.  If you need anything, do call me on the Floo or, in an emergency where you need to contact someone at the Ministry, call Arthur Weasley or even Amelia if it's urgent."

Dumbledore left them alone then and Harry couldn't help but feel stifled by the burning looks Hermione was giving him.  It was obvious she wanted to pepper him with yet more questions and demand further explanations.  He just wasn't in the mood.  

"Do you have a timetable for revision over the holidays?" he asked to break the silence.  

"Oh, well, yes, I do.  I wasn't thinking we'd start until after Christmas.  Do you want to do some revision now?"

"Not really, but maybe a copy of it would be nice."  Harry ran a hand through his hair and sighed.  "I need to put together a training schedule for Moody.  He wants to set up times to come over here and work throughout holiday."  

"I can get one for you," Hermione said.  She was biting her lip and before Harry could think of something else to distract her, she said, "I really thought Dumbledore would have more say about these voices!  I mean, how can he be so unconcerned?"

"Maybe because there's nothing to be done about it?" Harry said.  

"What does that mean?  Of _course_ there's something to be done!  There's _always_ something to be done, Harry," Hermione said patronizingly.

"What?  You're going to find a book on the voices in my head?" Harry said tersely.  "Don't be ridiculous--I'm a category of abnormal all unto myself."

"That's not what-"

"I'm going upstairs," he said and then Disapparated without waiting to hear anything else Hermione had to say.  

In his room, Harry found his bed made, the room tidied and the bag containing Mister Weasley's gift sitting on his foot bench.  Harry pulled out the box with the small muggle stereo and turned it over in his hands.  

_How many muggles had died last night?  _

_How many men, women or children who'd been looking forward to a pleasant Christmas with friends and family were now dead?_

_Dead and not even a body to properly mourn.nothing but a soulless, blackened and rotting corpse.were those corpses already turned into ash by now?  Perhaps scattered by the wind or tread under foot by detectives trying to make some sense of the senseless. _

_What terror must they have felt in their last dying moments?  _

_Cold.icy cold.the rattling breaths of the putrid and rotting Dementors.  _

_Could they feel the rotted, slimy and scabbed hands of the creatures as they prised open their mouths?  _

_What does it feel like when your very life and soul are being sucked out of your body through your mouth to be consumed by this.this thing?_

"Harry-there you are!  You're-what's wrong?"  Hermione stood in the doorway, looking concernedly at Harry who'd turned away as soon as he heard her. He was surprised to feel some part of him churned with annoyance at her.  He sniffed and realized somehow a few tears had tracked their way down his face.  Hurriedly, he wiped at them with his sleeve.  He gasped slightly when he felt her place her hands upon his arms from behind.  "Harry?" she asked softly. Something melted from deep within his chest at the concern in her voice.  He didn't want to be the reason she worried.  

He turned slowly and stopped halfway, still staring down, unseeing, at the box in his hands.  Hermione moved one hand to the small of his back and raised the other to caress his cheek.  

"Why is there blood on your cheek?" she asked softly. 

Harry turned again and set down the box before striding over to his desk.  "Snape," was his only answer.  

He heard the bed covers rustle as she sat down.  "Are you ever going to tell me what happened with you and him?" she asked quietly.  He wouldn't mind telling her things so much if she would just not demand it; she wasn't doing that now.

She sounded hurt to Harry; like he'd hurt her feelings by not telling her everything all at once and by turning away from her when she was only showing concern.  He supposed that was his intention though when he'd turned away.  He didn't turn back either when he responded, "What do you want to know?"

He heard her sigh and heard her shift again on the bed.  "Whatever there is to know, I guess."  

_That's Hermione, ever the fact-finder_.  Where could he even begin with everything 'there is to know'?

Softly, she began to speak, "We were all downstairs when Moody, who must have seen you with his eye, stops and jumps up to stare at the ceiling.  Professor Dumbledore asked him what was going on and Moody just said Snape had you pinned against a wall.  Oh, Harry, I wanted to go up there immediately and help you but Dumbledore told us to wait and let the both of you work out your differences.  He started to go on about how the both of you needed to learn to cooperate and then Moody just breaks in and says you're duelling with him.  Dumbledore told us to stay put and hurtled upstairs."  She paused here and Harry, still not looking at her, aimlessly, stepped over towards his desk for something upon which to focus.   

"We could _hear_ Dumbledore from the kitchen when he shouted.  The last time I've ever heard him so angry was.well, last year when Mundungus fell off his shift.  Oh, Harry I was so _worried_.  Moody told us when Snape had left and then said he'd go upstairs and make sure everything was okay.  He comes back down then, not a minute or two later and says we're all to stay put."  She paused and Harry idly moved a book around, staring down at it and not really seeing.

Her voice sounded faraway now when she said, "The others went on about their business, but Harry, I couldn't stop wondering if Dumbledore was telling you off or that he needed to heal you in some way or if you were given some really awful news or.or _something_."

"I'm sorry you were worried," Harry said.  "We were only talking and no, he didn't tell me off."

"So it wasn't your fault?"  He was at least pleased to hear relief and not just surprise at this comment.  "I hope he told Professor Snape off," Hermione disapprovingly.

Harry turned around and said, "Snape's probably going to be punished by Voldemort for what he did, not by Dumbledore."  Mumbling, Harry added, "And it's probably as much my fault as anyone's."

"What-" Hermione looked bewildered, "-what do you mean?"  

Harry told her about the Furious Curse and he ended sitting beside her on the bed.  He'd left out the detail about the possible connection between his and Voldemort's magic.  She believed Snape had merely compromised Harry's shields with the curse.  "You don't think he did it on purpose, do you?" she asked.  "You know, breech your shields and soften your mind for Voldemort?"

Harry looked at her in disbelief.  "Hermione, you're the one who always says he must be trustworthy."

"Yes, but he's never done anything like this before, has he?  And Dumbledore was obviously very displeased about it."

"Hermione, I can't believe you have me of all people, defending that git, but no, I do not think he did it on purpose."  Harry shook his head.  "No, I set him off is what happened.  He got ticked off at something I said and that's when he tried to-to intimidate me by throwing me up against the wall.  Takes more than that though, believe me and I should have just let him try.  But instead, I Disapparated from his grasp and when he saw my wand drawn, he tried to disarm me.  It all went downhill from there."  Harry ran a hand through his hair yet again.  

"And your cheek with the blood?" Hermione asked, gingerly reaching over to touch her hand to it.

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up to walk over to the mirror in the wardrobe.  "Must be one of his favorite little tricks.  Some conjured shards of silver or such that can cut through a Shield Charm."  Harry lit his wand and pointed it at his cheek as he examined the cuts in the mirror.  "I saw Snape use the same trick on my dad once."  The cuts were mostly healed; there were just some streaks of sticky and drying blood left.  "Be right back," Harry said as he went out to the bathroom to wash the blood off.

After a quick wash of his face, Harry returned to the room to find Hermione staring at him with her mouth gaping.  "What," Harry asked, stopping at her look and running his hand over his cheek.  "Did I miss a spot?"  

But Hermione was still looking at him like he had three heads.  "_What?"_ he asked again.

She snapped her mouth shut and swallowed before imploringly asking, "Harry, _how_ could you have seen Snape use 'that trick' on your _dad_?"

"Oh, bugger," Harry said reflexively.  How did he explain this?  "You wouldn't really know about that." he said absently, hoping she'd just accept it as something she didn't need to know.

Hermione snorted and looked at him incredulously.  "Obviously," she said, still gaping.  "_Well_?"

"I'd really rather not talk about it." Harry mumbled evasively as he turned away towards the fire, searching for something to change the topic and struggling to keep some part of himself from wanting to shout and scream.

"Harry," Hermione says in still stunned disbelief.  "I'd like to know where you could have ever seen your father and-"

"In a pensieve, all right!?" Harry said in a strangled voice; half-turned towards her and clenching his fists as he steadied himself with one hand on the mantle.  He wasn't going to talk about this and why-_why _did she keep pushing him to tell her everything?  Why this--_this_ of all things?  _Not this.anything but this._

He could hear her frown when she asked, "_Whose_ pensieve?  Was this like the time you snooped in Professor Dumbledore's, because, Harry, you know that was wrong."

"SNAPE'S!" he shouted, whirling around to face her.  "AND YES I _SNOOPED_ IN SNAPE'S PENSIEVE!"  

He wasn't really seeing anything as he shouted and he knew-_he just knew_ she wouldn't want to let this drop until she knew everything.  

"And you want to know _what_ I saw in that pensieve?"  His face crumpled then at seeing her surprise and shock on her face.    "_My father_.and he was an _utter bastard_!" Harry said viciously.  

"Harry.I." Hermione was and trembling at his outburst and she looked like she didn't know whether to cower back away or whether to reach out to him.

"_Snape's always said my father was an arrogant show off and you know what?  _He'S right!  But he wasn't just _arrogant_.he was._cruel_."  

He'd held these thoughts in now for so long.  Now that these words were finally being said, he just couldn't stop shouting them.  

"AND YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT ELSE?" Harry roared, stepping closer to the bed.  

His voice, still strangled with emotion but alarmingly steady, said, "Snape caught me in his pensieve-the fucking pensieve where I watched my father and Sirius treat him like filth and bully him in front of a whole load of onlookers."  Harry's jaw ached from clenching his teeth together roughly as he spit out his words.  "Yeah, that's right and Snape tossed me out on my arse and told me to never come back.so guess--_guess_ why I never mastered Occlumency, Hermione-_go on-guess_!"

Hermione just whimpered and shook her head.  He wasn't about to let her back away now.not when she'd been pushing to know just minutes before.

Harry sneered at her, "You _always_ want to know-_got_ to know!  Don't you want to know?"

"_Harry_." she pleaded, tears in her eyes.  "Stop, _please_."

She sobbed and it broke his heart but he still pressed on.  "I didn't even care," he said hollowly.  "Snape didn't want me back and there was no way in hell I was going back.  And you were right, weren't you, Hermione?  You're always right, of course.  I should have mastered Occlumency then."

"Harry."

He spun around then, away from her, and choked out, "Sirius would still be alive then, wouldn't he?"  Harry laughed then.  "I guess that sort of makes it Sirius' own fault for how he died, doesn't it?  He and my father both got off on torturing the oddball Snape and guess who gets the last laugh in the end?"  He laughed again; a half-sob more like and his voice sounded empty--even to himself.  "Snape._'Snivellus'_ they called him.he'd kill me if he ever knew I told anyone about what I saw."

Harry found himself facing the mantle above the fireplace again and on it, sat a photograph.  It was a photo of James and Sirius.  Sirius had found it over his time spent in the house and framed it up.  Harry couldn't bear to look at it.  

"You can't _imagine_ how much I hate Snape, Hermione.you can't even begin to imagine."  He could hear Hermione sniffling; he'd made her cry, he was sure.  "He's made it his life's work to make my life hell and all because my father was an arrogant arse.  It was one thing when I thought Snape was full of it, but now, it's so much worse.it's _unbearable_ to know that that _greasy_._Snape_ .that he's right."  

He didn't know for how long he stood there; trying to keep himself composed and trying to pull himself back together.  This wasn't what he needed to be doing now.  He didn't need to be getting stuck on the stupid shortcomings of his father.  While some part of him felt pleased to have said these things out loud, a whole other, larger part felt he never should have said any of this and that he needed to go back and make it like it had never happened.  

He turned to face Hermione and saw her sitting, with her back up against the headboard and a pillow clutched in front of her as she blinked up at him teary-eyed--almost warily.   Slowly, he walked over and around to the side of the bed.  She looked so beautiful there.  He legs drawn up.his hands tingled with the memory of the smoothness of those legs.  She looked so delicate.so fragile and so like something that might break.something that _could_ break.

He silently sat upon the bed; just far enough away to not touch her but to still feel the heat from her body.   He _craved_ that heat.he wanted her more than anything   But he couldn't.not now.he wished she didn't know what she now knew.  

He only realized he'd pulled his wand when he saw her eyes fix upon it.  He watched her eyes stare at the hand resting upon his knee and clutching his wand.  He waited for her eyes to turn back to his and when, finally, they did, he _saw_ the fear reflected and _saw_ the very word whispering about in his mind.  _Obliviate_.  

But the words that came out of his mouth weren't that incantation.  They held no spell power and sounded very childish to Harry's ears.  "Why._why_ do you ask me about things I don't want to share._why_?"  

Her eyes darted to his wand and then back to his face.  

"Why can't you accept there are things I don't want you to know?  There are things _I_ don't want to know?" he implored.  

Her face softened but he didn't want her sympathy.  "You think you know me better than anyone and you do--_you do_.  But.I _hate_ that sometimes.  Can't you _understand_ how much I hate that?"  

The fear was back in her eyes.  _Good_.  "There are some things about me you don't ever want to know.you can't imagine some things I've done."  _Crucio_.  "You can't imagine some of things I've seen.I've heard."  _Freak_. 

She looked messy and faraway then, until he realized it was his tears distorting his vision.  "I don't _want_ you to know everything._I_ don't know everything."  

He blinked and could see her eyes again.  She was wondering how this could really be him.  He could make her forget everything he'd just said and done and she'd never know.she'd think they'd been snogging or something and _he_ could just forget._pretend_.

"Harry." she said, her voice breaking.  She sobbed once and he saw her eyes roam as she struggled to hold back from reaching out to him.  "You don't understand," she said.  Didn't he?  "I love _you_," she said.

The breath was sucked out of his lungs then and he felt himself collapse from within.  

"You shouldn't," he said, tears filling his eyes and his throat seizing up.  "_You shouldn't_."  He wanted to get away--away from himself and the tears just wouldn't stop.  He slid off the bed and onto the floor, cradling his head in his hands and said again, "_You shouldn't_."  

"Harry."

"Leave me alone." He knew she hadn't moved to leave yet and, thickly through his tears, said, "Just leave!"  

"But--"

"GET OUT!"

He woke up with a start; stiff and cold on the floor beside his bed.  He'd been having a dream where Hermione acted like she didn't know who he was and didn't remember him at all.  She'd laughed and pointed at him and then flipped him upside down, exposing his pants to the entire school.  

He stood up and saw the sun had already gone down and his room was dark but for the last dying embers of a fire.  Hedwig hooted softly to him from her perch in the corner.  She'd returned from the Burrow sometime while he'd slept.  He walked over to her and found a small package of owl treats just behind her perch.  He stroked her head once as she nipped the treat from his hand.  

"You get all those letters to the Weasleys?" he asked her hoarsely.  

She clicked her beak at him as if it were a very silly question.  

He slipped out then, careful to make sure the hall was clear, to the bathroom and when he returned, the fire had been rekindled and a tray of food was set out.  __

The thought of leaving his room and running into anyone was unthinkable right now.  He locked the door and crawled into bed, still wearing his clothes.  He wanted to just close his eyes and sleep.to forget.  This had been such a long day already and the worst hadn't even started.  

_And that was stupid, wasn't it_, he thought.  _Falling asleep with your mind full of awful and swirling thoughts_.   He mentally berated himself for being so careless and especially now.  He closed his eyes, intent upon straightening up all the clutter about his mind.  

But after several minutes of this, he decided there was just too much from today to sort through in his head.  He shoved off the duvet then and went over to his desk.  He sifted through a small stack of book on the desk and found his journal.  He felt a pang of guilt upon seeing the leather book that Hermione had given to him for his last birthday.  _I think it might help you_, she'd said.  Yet again, she'd been right.  

Much later, Remus had stopped by to try to talk to Harry, but he still wasn't much in the mood.  It was only out of obligation that Harry answered Remus' questions about the afternoon meeting with Tonks, Shacklebolt and Dumbledore.  At first, Harry thought Remus surely could have gotten the information from Hermione, but then it occurred to Harry that perhaps she was being just as reclusive and uncommunicative as he. 

"Here," Harry said, handing Remus a parchment.  "It's a report I wrote up about my meeting with the goblins this morning."  Remus' eyebrows arched at this.  "Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.  Anyway, we'll go over it all with the Inner Council.  I wrote it up so as to disseminate the information expediently and so everyone would be up to speed when we do meet.  That-and I'll surely be sick of repeating it to everyone."

Remus nodded and took the scroll and tucked it away in his robes.  "I picked up some muggle papers on the way home," he said.  

"What'd they say?"  Harry could only imagine.

Remus shrugged.  "The Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee seems to have been working overtime today.  The latest editions have something about a fast-acting fungal epidemic hitting in sporadic locales and maybe being linked to exotic pets or imported fruits."

Harry raised his eyes at this. It was amazing what people would believe.  "How many?" he asked.

Remus wouldn't meet his eye and replied, "Hundreds."  Harry let out a hiss and Remus nodded knowingly.  "There're no accurate counts.  They can't really identify the corpses and as they've taken so long in investigating this 'mysterious thing', it's very likely they'll never get an accurate count."  

"Has Fudge said anything?  Is there anything in the Prophet?"  

Remus frowned.  "I don't think Fudge will see an upside to telling the Wizarding world that the Dementors are out and on the move."

"What?!"

"Yes, well, think, Harry.  Most people in our world don't care one way or the other about muggles."  Remus ran a hand over his worn grey slacks.  "I hate to say this, but well, as long as the Dementors remain in the muggle world, then at least we know their numbers aren't increasing."

"Remus!"  Harry was appalled.  

 "I'm sorry, Harry," he said apologetically.  "But you know it's true."

Harry shook his head and looked off across the room.  "Isn't there a way to destroy them?  Not just chase them away, but _destroy_ them?"  Remus was at a loss.  "There's got to be a way, Remus."

"You know as much as I do about Dementors, Harry.  Maybe even more."

Hermione might know. 

"Are you coming down to eat dinner?" Remus asked.  "I thought I'd hang out down there in case there are any firecalls."

"No," Harry said absently.  "I already had a late tea."

"I see.so, should I even ask why.?"

"No," was Harry's terse reply.  

Remus didn't ask again and left Harry to further brood and sulk alone.  After two hours, Harry had exhausted every book on every shelf in his room and found nothing on the Furious Curse.  The other option here at headquarters was to check the library.  Its contents had been picked over extensively in the purge of cursed and possibly dangerous objects but maybe, Harry thought, that would a likely place to find out about a questionable curse.  Unfortunately, he was well aware that there was a very high probability that someone else had already retreated into the sanctuary of the book-lined walls.  

The bed, empty and looking forlorn, seemed to mock Harry.  He couldn't think about sleeping; not now when he knew somewhere out there innocent lives were being not just lost, but slaughtered in the name of war and blood purity and lord knows what else Voldemort used as a battle cry.  And the bed, empty and cold, mocked him because he couldn't bring himself to climb into it alone.  He hadn't seen Hermione since she left him wallowing in his own self-doubts and whatever else had crawled under his skin to fester.  

He knew he needed to apologize to her.  Not just apologize but beg for forgiveness for being such an arse.  In all the years they'd been friends, he's never lashed out like that at Hermione.  Well, last year when he first arrived here at headquarters after a miserable half of summer came close, but even then, it'd been Ron and Hermione together that he'd lashed out at.  Never had he been so spiteful like that and never could he _ever_ recall feeling so miserable about doing anything in his life.   

She'd been crying when she left him earlier and he couldn't shake the image of her tears; her eyes that had held fear--a fear of him and that had questioned who he really was.  Her eyes had blamed him for the hurt she'd felt.  They weren't wrong.  He knew it then and he knew it now.  He still just could not understand why he'd said and pushed like he'd done.  It was like some part of him knew she'd have to forgive him.  It was only once and she couldn't blame him for being on edge and a bit volatile at times.  Like there was some part inside that wanted to prove to himself that she would forgive him and that even if he was horrible or awful and yelled at her, that she wouldn't leave him.  She _couldn't_ leave him, a small and childlike voice in his head begged.  

Round about midnight, Harry still couldn't stand the thought of sleep.  It had as much to do with wondering what was going on about the country as not wanting to curl up alone.  The house had been quiet all night and he decided to chance it and take a walk.  

In the hallway, he passed by one set of doors to the deserted practice hall and then stopped just before passing the door to Hermione's room.  He could hardly ever remember her spending a night in there.  There'd been one night of course that they'd both spent in there and he remembered it all too well.  The door was ajar and he could see no light from within.  He listened intently and couldn't hear the breathing of deep sleep.  What would we he even say to her?  What _could_ he say?  If only he could just see her.see that she was all right.  The door, as if on its own, swung inward slowly and spilled light from the hallway onto an empty bed.  Part of him was relieved.  

He walked past the door to Remus' room, which was also empty, and soundlessly descended the stairs.  Down a flight, he suspected he'd find her in the room at the end of the hall.  It seemed like a mile from where he stood now at the other end of the corridor. His steps were slow but he was still drawn as he walked towards the door at the end of the hall.  What had she told him and Ron once when they were younger?  That even when she'd been a primary school child and friends could not be found, she'd always had her books.  Ron had laughed at that then and said she should abandon her books since she obviously had he and Harry for friends and they were certainly more entertaining than any book.  

_But books don't hurt you.they don't let you down and make you afraid_.  Well, most books didn't of course.  You never knew in the Wizarding world.  

The door arrived in front of him before he knew it and he saw it was closed completely.  It wasn't left ajar and he couldn't see any inviting light softly spilling from beneath the door.  It seemed much, much more ominous than her half-open bedroom door.  It took a few moments before he decided he was making a mockery of the much-vaunted Gryffindor courage by standing out in the hall like a coward.  He held his breath as he twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door--to reveal an empty and dark room.  

_Merrr-ow_.  Crookshanks weaved through Harry's legs and pushed his way into the library through the now-open door. For a moment, He thought it meant Hermione really was in there but then, Crookshanks, seemingly completed his investigation of the room and slinked out.  

Harry walked back down the hallway.  Maybe she's in the kitchen with Remus?  He didn't really fancy seeing her now after their--_his_ blow up with someone else around.  He was dimly aware of his decisions to turn into the drawing room as he'd passed the doors and only stopped when he heard a distressed sigh from the sofa in front of him.  

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he saw Hermione curled up into the corner of the sofa with her head leaning against the back.    A yawn from the hearth showed Fang, sprawled out and enjoying the warmth from the still burning fire.  

Harry, who now found himself in front of the sofa and looking down upon her, kneeled down as he watched the firelight glint off her hair.  A book lay open upon her lap and looked about to slide off at any moment.  He quietly took the book from its precarious resting spot, closed it and set it aside.  _A Compelling Compendium of Dark Creatures_.  

He wanted to smooth back her hair that was tousled and falling forward, obscuring her lovely face.  Her lips worked soundlessly as her brow furrowed and he desperately hoped she wasn't having some awful dream like he'd had earlier.  Those lips.her mouth was parted slightly and, as ever, it held a perpetual pout to them that always seemed to make them so irresistible.  

Her brow furrowed again and she frowned in her sleep as she shifted.  Without his consent, his hand reached out to brush back her hair from her face and his heart leapt as he felt her lean into his hand and sigh softly, as if soothed from his touch.  Her cheek then, cupped within his palm, snuggled down further into the sofa.  As his hand was trapped beneath her head, he made himself comfortable on the floor in front of her and stared off into the fire.  He tried desperately to listen to the voices he heard just before loosing his battle with sleep.  If he'd had to guess, he'd say they'd been riled into chaos again.  

_______________________________________________________________________

~          *            ~            *            ~            *            ~            *

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­________________________________________________________________________

NOTE: As usual, I will remind you that there is a Yahoo group for this fic.  The group name is HP_AoF and a link to the site can be found on my bio page.  ~~~Cheers~~~


	39. Chapter 42 One by One

Chapter 42.  One by One 

_He wanted to smooth back her hair that was tousled and falling forward, obscuring her lovely face. Her lips worked soundlessly as her brow furrowed and he desperately hoped she wasn't having some awful dream like he'd had earlier. Those lips…her mouth was parted slightly and, as ever, it held a perpetual pout to them that always seemed to make them so irresistible. _

_Her brow furrowed again and she frowned in her sleep as she shifted. Without his consent, his hand reached out to brush back her hair from her face and his heart leapt as he felt her lean into his hand and sigh softly, as if soothed from his touch. Her cheek then, cupped within his palm, snuggled down further into the sofa. As his hand was trapped beneath her head, he made himself comfortable on the floor in front of her and stared off into the fire. He tried desperately to listen to the voices he heard just before loosing his battle with sleep. If he'd had to guess, he'd say they'd been riled into chaos again_. 

~ ~ ~ ~

_Brrrringggg!  Brrrring! Brrring!_

Harry woke abruptly and found himself staring, wide-eyed, into Hermione's suddenly open eyes.   Harry, mind blurred from sleep, wondered briefly what had caused them to both suddenly jerk awake at the same time.

The sound the front door opening, followed by some scuffling noises from downstairs and finally, the door slamming, made Harry jump up from the floor; his arm, aching and stiff from where it had been wedged between the arm of the sofa and Hermione's sleeping head for the past—he checked the grandfather clock just as it struck three times.

"Someone's here," Hermione said, stating the obvious and groggily sitting up.  

Harry offered a hand to Hermione to help her off the sofa, all thoughts of their fight forgotten for now.  Harry leading the way and straining to hear who had arrived, they hurried out of the drawing room and cautiously descended the stairs into the entry hall.  

"Oh my—what happened?" Remus' voice could be heard as they sped up down the last turn of the staircase.

The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt was then heard saying, "Sorry about having to wake you.  Her legs--I think it was a Bone Shatterer Curse.  I had to Stun her to stop her pain; she couldn't stop screaming."

The voices were coming from the dining room, just off the entry hall, and Harry and Hermione both stopped dead in their tracks as they saw an unfamiliar woman laid out upon the dining table.  She wore golden Auror robes and blood was spattered all down the front and side.

"What—who is that?" Harry asked, making Remus and Kingsley take notice of him and Hermione for the first time.  

"Tonks," Kingsley said and then added quickly.  "But it's not as bad as it looks.  The blood's not hers and she's only Stunned for now."

"Whose blood is it?" Hermione asked as they walked closer and examined Tonks.  

Harry could see not only blood on the robes, but also on her face and in sticky dark red clumps in her pale blond hair.  "What happened?" he asked.  

"Death Eaters," Kingsley said to answer both questions.  

"Kingsley, I think she'll need St. Mungo's," Remus said quietly as he examined each of her shins beneath the robes.  

But Kingsley shook his head gravely.  "Can't.  Strict instructions and we both promised each other not to go there.  We don't any record of this injury for anyone to find out, remember?  No, I portkeyed us out of there to about a block from here."  He turned to Hermione and asked, "Can you get Dumbledore on the Floo and see if he could get something for her from Hogwarts?  Tell him Tonks took what I think is a Bone Shatterer Curse to the shins."  Hermione nodded and flew out of the room.  

"Is she going to be all right?" Harry asked, stepping closer still to the table where Tonks lay.  "How did it go tonight?  Did you get anyone?"

Kingsley took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded.  "Moody's got three of them now.  Though one is of no use anymore.  It's his blood on her there," he said gesturing to Tonks.  "It was her job to get a portkey necklace over the head of anyone we could subdue for capture.  She was just getting the third when one of the other Death Eaters saw what she was doing.  He did a nasty bit of work to rip the voice-box from the throat of the third one just before she was able to portkey him away."  Kingsley grimaced as he recalled the scene he'd witnessed.  "It looked like he slit the throat open with a curse and then just Summoned the thing from his throat—it was one of the most hideous things I've ever seen done."

Grimly, Remus said, "But that's one person who, captured alive or not, certainly won't be talking."  Kingsley nodded. 

"Then what happened to Tonks?" Harry asked as he saw her lower legs, which were nearly black with bruising.  They were swollen and had an angry red tinge to them besides the bruising and did not look good. The sight made Harry's stomach churn.

"She was just getting the necklace on the guy and activating the portkey when he had his throat ripped open—hence all the blood and …well, anyway.  Then—and I was just coming out to help at this point because Townsend had also gone down and let two get away at this point—Tonks set an Anti-Apparition jinx on the this throat-cutter bloke and as she gave chase on him, he spun around and hit her with the curse to her legs.  I tried to give chase but there wasn't much to be done for it and he got away.  We had to get out of there as soon as possible and I went back to her and the others." 

"Weren't there six Death Eaters there?" Harry asked.

Kingsley nodded.  "Seven at first actually.  But one just came with them and helped them scope out the house—he left before they ever attacked.  Two Disapparated as soon as they could when they met resistance.  We had a team of four and myself as on-site backup.  The other three besides Tonks…I sent them back with their portkey to the Ministry."

Hermione came rushing back into the dining room then.  "He said he'll send Madame Pomfrey over as soon as he can get her and portkey her here," she said breathlessly.  "He said we should move her to a bed here and expect her to stay here for at least a week or more while she's on the mend.  Remus, he asked if you'd call her mum in the morning to let her know where Tonks is."

Remus nodded and they followed as Kingsley, muttering, "_Mobilicorpus_," floated Tonks up the stairs and into a spare bedroom.  Hermione and Harry helped turn down a bed before she was gently lowered down upon it.  Remus performed several Cleaning Charms then on her robes, face and hair.  

Soon, Madame Pomfrey had arrived and after being led to the room by Harry, she shooed the rest of them from the room to tend to Tonks.  In the drawing room, Kingsley paced in circles and kept muttering about one thing or another that they could have done better.  Remus quietly told Hermione what they knew so far and Hermione asked, "What happened to the Crofton family?  Did you manage to get them out of the house before anything happened?"

Kingsley stopped pacing and answered, "No, we decided that would tip someone off about what we knew.  They have two young kids and we set up some spells to keep them inside and away from the action and to keep the Death Eaters out.  We decided it would look better if the Ministry Aurors appeared to show up just after the Death Eaters arrived outside the house."

"Why were they a target in the first place?" Harry asked.  "Do you know?"

Remus answered, "Lloyd and Linda Crofton are both muggleborns.  Their jobs are nothing special so we imagine being a family of muggleborns was all they needed to be painted as targets."  

"Weren't there any witnesses?" Hermione asked.  "Does the Ministry have to send Obliviators or anything?  Because they could get caught in more crossfire if more Death Eaters come back to finish the job."  Her arms were crossed and wrapped tightly around her chest.  Her hair was dishevelled from sleep and Harry now noticed how bleary her eyes were.  

"It is likely they'll get attacked again if they've already been named targets," Kingsley admitted as he sat down heavily in a side chair and dropped his head into his hands.  "But the area was remote.  They own some sort of produce farm and there was no one about for miles.  I don't know if Snape knew that when he gave us the tip but it works out well that we could keep everything outside of the house and have no witnesses."  He stood up abruptly then and announced, "I need to start writing my report and get this all down while it's fresh.  I should also send word to Amelia."

Remus nodded and said, "Let's go down to the kitchen.  There's spare parchment there and there's cauldron for post.  Besides, I should get back to the fire in case someone calls."  He turned to Harry and asked, "Will you and Hermione stay up here and take care of anything Poppy needs while she's here?"  Harry nodded. 

As Remus and Kingsley left the room, Harry turned to find Hermione standing off by the fireplace.  She still had her arms wrapped protectively around herself and seemed to shrink in on herself as she felt Harry's eyes upon her.  Harry felt the distance expand between them as he stood in the middle of the room, watching her not look at him.  When he'd wandered the house to find her earlier, words had come much more easily to mind.  Now, the silence pressed on and the gulf between them seemed ever widening.  

He didn't know where to start but knew he should.  "Hermione…"  She seemed to stiffen and turn away even more at the sound of her name.

"Mister Potter?" Madame Pomfrey called brusquely from the hallway.

With a sigh that was nearly relief, Harry gave a pained look to the back of Hermione's head and went to the hallway.  

"Mister Potter," Pomfrey said when she saw him emerge from the drawing room.  "Professor Dumbledore said there would be house elves here whom I might give instructions for the care of this patient?"

"Oh, yes, Er, Dobby and Winky—yes, I'll find them."  

Harry turned to leave and no sooner had he taken a step, than Dobby appeared with a _crack_!  

"Yes, Harry Potter?  You is needing Dobby?  What can I do for--"

"Over here," Pomfrey said curtly.  "Potter—you're going to be staying here while this patient recovers?"  Harry nodded.  "You might as well come along then—Miss Granger might do well to come along, too.  Why don't you fetch her and—"

"I'm here, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said stepping out into the hallway.  

Pomfrey nodded and they followed her into the bedroom.  Tonks was now wearing a hospital gown and had blankets lain over the top of her, but folded up to reveal her lower legs which were still blackened with bruising and shapeless with shattered bones.  

"Now, as both of you are in the Healing class, I thought this might be an excellent opportunity for you to see how a dark curse like the one used here is mended.  You'll note the victim was Stunned to keep her from experiencing the pain and from attempting to walk about and possibly cause more damage to herself.  This curse was aimed at the major lower leg bones: the tibias.   She's obviously tried to put pressure on her legs after the curse and so has fractured her left fibula as well."  Pomfrey was gesturing to Tonks' legs as she spoke clinically to Harry and Hermione.  

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has already told me the curse that was used here—the Bone Shatterer Curse.  The best way to treat this is, ironically Potter, to first Vanish the shattered bones.  You'll recall the esteemed Gilderoy Lockhart did something of that nature to your arm a few years back."  She pointed the brightly lit tip of her wand at one of Tonks' shins and said, "Look closely—you can see beneath the bruising that the skin is very inflamed and red and that there are some lumps and points of obtrusion.  The bone shards are currently cutting and slicing through and into all sorts of muscle, nerves, tendons—you see even a few points here where the bone fragments are attempting to pierce through the skin."  

She waved her wand over each leg then as she clearly said, "_Exos tibulae evanesco_."  Tonks' shins seemed then to deflate a bit and now looked like a pair of rubbery boots.  Over the left shin she said, "_Conferre fibula_."

"There," Pomfrey said.  "Now, I'm not going to wake her up and you ought to let her rest.  She'll sleep through under the Stunner because she knew she was in pain when she was Stunned.  Wake her in the morning and make sure she gets two Analgesic Draughts a day until the swelling goes down.  Only then can you give her two beakers-full of Skele-Gro."  She gestured to the bedside table where a bottle of what Harry recalled to be one of the vilest tasting potions ever sat.  "Potter, you can tell her what to expect as I imagine you've not forgotten.  After she takes that, the legs should be sore for a day or so and then she's good to go.  Got it?"

Harry nodded and Hermione asked, "Why does she need to wait for the swelling to go down?"

"So the injured tendons and nerves can repair themselves and recover from the trauma.  They won't properly attach to the new bone if they're still traumatized.  Absolutely, under _no_ circumstances, should she attempt to walk or even sit up with her legs hanging down.  Keep them elevated on a bed."  She turned to Dobby then and instructed him, "Make sure she gets plenty of milk, water, meat and make regular infusions of Comfrey tea.  Any questions—you all know where to reach me."  

"Yes, Ma'am.  Dobby will make sure.  Yes, Ma'am."

She sighed heavily then and, with one last look at the blond and unconscious Tonks, said, "Very well then, if that's all?" and with that, she disdainfully pulled out a bedpan from her robes and tapped it once before disappearing from the room.  

Harry and Hermione were once again alone, besides Tonks who was out cold.  Hermione, seeming to suddenly realize this, spun around to leave the room.  Harry followed her and, in the hallway, called out, "Hermione wait—Hermione…?"

She stopped, her arms wrapped around herself again, and after pausing a moment where she seemed to steel herself, she spun around to face Harry.  "What do you want?" she asked coolly.

_I deserve that…_  He was somewhat shocked at her tone; he'd never heard her use it with him ever before.  "I…"  He didn't know where to begin.  

"Stop looking so sorry," Hermione spat.  "If you're going to Obliviate me then do it now so I can stop trying to test whether I can still remember how awful you were!"

Harry recoiled as if slapped and stammered.  "I…I…I wouldn't…_no_…"  She couldn't really think he'd…

Hermione scowled.  "Really?  You could have fooled me."

"_No_," Harry protested weakly, shaking his head as he took a step forward towards her.  "I never meant to…I _wouldn't_…I just—_I'm so sorry_."

Hermione puffed up and Harry thought for a moment that he'd managed to inflame her anger even more, but instead, she seemed to deflate.  She was starring down at the floor and had one arm wrapped around her chest and her other hand cradling the side of her head.  

Harry took another step towards her.  "I know I hurt you," he said in a pained voice.  "I can't even forgive _myself_ for that right now so I don't know how I can ask you to forgive me."  She turned sideways then; facing the entrance to the drawing room and away from Harry.  "I don't know where to begin…_please_…"

Hermione sniffed in and took a deep shuddering breath that made her shoulders rise and fall.  He wasn't sure if that was good or bad.  "I should not have lashed out at you," he said contritely as he took another step towards her.  She turned a little more away from him.  "_Please_ tell me you don't hate me…"

She laughed and it sounded half like a sob.  "I can't…believe me; I _can't_ hate you, Harry."  A small part of him was relieved to hear this. Hermione turned and looked over Harry's shoulder towards the stairs and said, "There're more important things to get on with now, Harry. We really should go see—"

"It's not as important as you," he said in a stronger voice than he'd intended.  

Hermione's eyes met Harry's now for the first time since Kingsley arriving with Tonks had startled them from sleep.  He saw the mingled hurt and hope in her eyes; it reflected his own.  

"I wish I knew the words to say to you to make you feel better," he said in a whisper, searching for any sign she would forgive him.  "To make everything all right."

"Harry, I just wish you'd tell me things…things that…you know—stop trying to hide things from me and just let me in…let me _help_.  I've only ever wanted to help you."  She paused and he thought she might breakdown for a moment, but instead her face hardened and she said, "I don't mean to be such a…a _nightmare_ but—"

"You're not a nightmare, Hermione."

Hermione laughed shortly.  "Well, whatever.  I've obviously made you resent me," she said bitterly.

"I don't…_Hermione_… I don't _resent_ you," Harry said.  "Well…maybe, and this is the only thing I concede to resenting, I might _sometimes_ resent how…how—" he searched for the word, "—how _vulnerable_ you make me feel."  

Hermione's mouth hung open and she was looking at Harry like she'd never seen him before.   Harry took another step towards her; he was only about five feet away now.  _Vulnerable_.  It's how he felt now.  If she wanted to, she could crush him with a few choice words.  He'd do anything not to lose her.  He _needed_ her.  

The sound of footsteps on the landing preceded Remus' voice, "There you both are.  Kingsley had to leave.  How's Tonks?"  Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.  

"She'll be fine," Hermione said.  "Madame Pomfrey already left.  We don't have to wake Tonks until morning."  

"That's good," Remus said, sounding relieved as he walked over and peered into the bedroom where Tonks lay.  

Hermione moved over beside Remus and said, "Well, I think I should stay with Tonks for the night just in case she wakes up.  I'll just take the other bed in there.  Goodnight," she called out with only the briefest of glances to Harry before she went in and closed the door.  Harry's shoulders slumped as the door shut and he suddenly felt very, very alone.  

Remus clapped a hand on his shoulder and asked, "There's a pot of tea in the kitchen if you want to keep me company by the fire?"  Harry nodded glumly and followed along.  Anything other than going back to his empty room alone sounded good to Harry.  

In the kitchen, Remus had dragged out one of the wingback chairs and set it in front of the fire with a plump ottoman in front of it where a tea tray was set upon it.  Harry pulled the other chair from the corner and sunk into it.  Remus poured two cups as he eyed Harry.  "Sugar or cream?"  Harry just shook his head and took the proffered mug.  

At length, Harry just sat back in the chair and held the steaming mug between his hands as he stared off into space.  He needed to make things right with Hermione.  He shouldn't have waited and wasted the whole day after he blew up at her.  He just didn't think there were words for what he needed her to know, to believe, to understand. 

"Your father," Remus said, as if in answer to Harry's unvoiced question, "he always swore by flowers, chocolate and jewellery when he needed to make up with your mum."

_My father…and isn't he part of the reason I lost it earlier?  Isn't he partly to blame for so many things?_  Harry was too tired to even summon any of the resentment or rage like he'd felt before.  Part of him had drawn a parallel between his parents' deaths and Sirius' death; they could both be traced back to a conscious decision of Snape's.  His parents and he himself had been targeted when Snape, in an effort to save his own life, manipulated Voldemort with a filtered and abbreviated version of the prophecy.  Sirius had died and been made into bait which Voldemort used to lure Harry.  Harry, if he'd mastered Occlumency before this though, never would have been manipulated.  And why had he not mastered Occlumency?  Snape.  Sure the animosity was mutual between Harry and Snape but it had always been Snape who'd started it. The very first day Harry'd ever seen Snape, at the Welcome Feast in his first year, he'd been glared at and his first Potions class was legendary.  It was Snape, the adult of the two, who'd given up and cut off Occlumency lessons, refusing to allow Harry back in his office.  

Why?  Why had Snape singled Harry out and treated him so hatefully?  Because Harry represented this reincarnation of James Potter, Snape's childhood tormentor.  The Dursleys on the other hand, Harry'd never really known and he still didn't, why exactly _they_ hated magic and everything about him.  (Then again the Dursleys' lack of rational and sound logic knew no limits.)  But Snape, Harry knew, Snape hated him most definitely because of his father.  That much was fact.  Sirius as Harry's godfather was just fuel added to an inferno.  

Between his father, Sirius and Snape, only Snape was still alive.  That was a cruel irony alone in and of itself to Harry.  But what really made Harry burn with spite was the fact that he, Harry, was left here to suffer Snape's unjust and indiscriminate vengeance as payback for everything his father had ever done to Snape.  Harry was the one left here to pay the price for all that his father had done.  Remus and Sirius had said his father had stopped hexing Snape when his mother was around, as they'd gotten older.  Would his father have cared enough to lay off Snape if he'd been told that someday, his orphaned and only son would suffer Snape's vengeance?  Would his father have cared that he, Harry, would have to suffer for what his father had surely only seen as harmless pranks?

"Harry?  Are you even listening to me?"  Remus said, waving a hand in front of Harry's face.

"Oh, sorry.  What was that?"

Remus sighed, leaned forward and set his mug down on the ottoman.  "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

Harry stared down into his mug of untouched tea.  The scent of bergamot wafted up.  _Earl Grey_, he thought.  "I told her about what I saw in Snape's pensieve," he said as if that explained it all.

When Harry explained no more, Remus said, "I see."

Harry sipped his tea and, after holding the warm liquid in his mouth for a moment, swallowed and said, "Not everything and I never intended to, but I slipped up and said this one little thing and there she goes—chasing after this little question, this inconsistency, this one little…_thing_ that eludes her realm of knowledge and she just has to know."  If Remus thought Harry was confusing, he didn't say so.  Harry looked up sharply at Remus and asked, "Have you noticed what a coincidence it is that Snape was involved in both Sirius' and my father's deaths?"

Remus turned and looked off into the fire; his hands clenched into fist and then unclenched.  

"I'll take that as a yes," Harry said dryly.  "I don't trust him."

Remus, looking like it hurt very much to say so, said, "But Albus does and despite everything Snape's done, he's done nearly all that's been asked of him."

Harry looked disgusted.  He didn't want rational support for the git; he wanted someone to just agree with him.  Too bad Ron wasn't here; he'd always support a tirade against Snape.  "Well, whatever.  I want to set him straight on some things."  Remus quirked up an eyebrow. "If he's here where I'm living and most especially on Order business, then he isn't my git of a professor.  He gets _only_ the respect he deserves—and that's almost nil.  He dishes out all sorts of vitriol and sarcasm but when his turn comes to take what he gives, he can't.  I've had it with his little power trips and petty vengeance!"  Harry snapped his mouth shut when he realized his voice had been growing steadily louder.  

"I see you've given this some thought," Remus said.

"Well, I'm sick of it," Harry snapped.  "Sick of him trying to make me pay for what they did.  Why can't the git just go spit on their graves and be content with it?"

Remus, at a loss, said nothing.  Harry, resentfully, gulped the rest of his tea and pulled a blanket from the back of the chair to wrap around himself as stared off moodily into the fire.  After some time, Remus asked, "Can I ask what all this about Snape has to do with you and Hermione?"

Harry sighed.  "It doesn't really, but it's why I went off on her today."  Harry told Remus about his and Snape's little duel in the entry hall and then about everything Dumbledore had said.  Harry didn't leave out anything.  He told Remus about the Furious Curse, how it had paralyzed him, how Dumbledore had seemed to think a bit of Voldemort somehow was pulled along through Harry by the curse and how not only was Harry's mind linked to Voldemort, but his magic as well.  He told Remus how Dumbledore had made Snape leave before Harry had come around from the curse and how Dumbledore had warned Snape that, as a result, Voldemort might have seen through Harry's eyes, Snape standing there watching.  Harry also told Remus how, after Dumbledore had left, he'd tried to avoid Hermione's questions but instead ended up lashing out at her about all his pent up frustrations about Snape and his life in general.  He told Remus everything.

Remus, who was an excellent listener, let Harry go on and on without comment and took it all in quietly.   After Harry, looking defeated and remorseful, finished, Remus withheld comment for several minutes.  Finally, he said, "Does Hermione know all you just told me?"  Harry looked guiltily down at the flagstone hearth and shook his head.  "She can't understand what she doesn't know, Harry," he said quietly.   

"I know," Harry said softly.  "She's angry with me and she has every right to be. I was…" He shook his head in recollection.  "--it wasn't _me_--who I am or who I want to be...I can't even believe I acted so…_so_ _awful_."

"Chocolate, flowers and jewellery, Harry, like I said," Remus offered wisely.

Harry looked up and asked, "Yeah?  Well which one is right for how bad I messed up?"

Remus just laughed.  "If you were an arse and you know it, then one just isn't enough."

The smell of sausages frying and coffee brewing roused Harry from an awkward slumber where his head had lolled against the wing of the chair, leaving a stiff crick in his neck.  "Wassit?" he mumbled, smacking his mouth closed.  

A low wheezing noise came from Remus in the other chair and who was still sleeping.  Yawning and grimacing at the pain in his neck, Harry looked about to see Winky standing upon a stool and leaning over the oven.  He checked his wristwatch and saw that it was almost eight o'clock in the morning.  Stiffly, Harry pushed himself out of the chair.

"Good morning, Winky," he said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.  

"Morning, Master Harry," she said quietly without looking up from the stovetop.  

Harry rolled his eyes at her insistence at addressing him as 'Master'.  He picked up a piece of dry toast from a plate and walked upstairs.  Deciding as he walked, he didn't want to chance a run in with Hermione just yet, he Disapparated to his room where he then went about showering and changing for the day.  

As he pulled on a dark grey jumper over a t-shirt, a tapping at the window drew Harry's attention to Hedwig who had been out for the night.  He walked over to the window and let her in, along with a flurry of snowflakes and cold air. Overnight, a blanket of white snow had fallen over the street below.  Hedwig had a vole of some sort clutched in her talons and gave Harry a triumphant look as she flew to her perch to devour her catch.  

Seeing Hedwig also reminded Harry that if he planned to make up with Hermione and give her something other than his rambling and vaguely coherent apologies, he ought to place an owl-order for something now.  The idea of buying something to apologize rather than just offering contrite words was greatly appealing to him as it promised to involve a lot less stammering and fumbling for words.  He was on a mailing list for a quarterly Diagon Alley Merchants catalogue and dug out the winter edition from his trunk.  He imagined it would be a rush order to get anything in the next day or so with Christmas only two days away.  He only managed to flip through it a few minutes before the sight of a parchment scroll in the Order's cauldron caught his eye.  

_TO: HP, RL. HG, AM, SS, MM_

_FROM: AD_

_Council to meet at 10 A.M. in HQ._    

Short and to the point it was; it also told him nothing.  Harry was anxious now to know what information Moody might have gotten out of any of the captives.  He wondered whom Moody might have got to interrogate.  He wondered how soon they might be convicted and sent off to prison or even if they'd go to Azkaban.  

Azkaban, the isle, although abandoned by Dementors, was still the location for the British Wizarding prison.  Prisoners were locked into cells that would shock them if they tried to touch the windows or bars.  The number of Magical Law Enforcement employees who'd been required to work on the Isle of Azkaban was one of the reasons for Fudge's recent efforts to bulk up the force and those serving in it.  

Harry went back to perusing the owl-order catalogue and pondered over what he should do.  He'd quickly found a Chocolatier that carried imported chocolates from Belgium, Switzerland and France.  The pictures of their truffles were enough to make Harry's mouth water so much that he dropped the catalogue and headed out down for breakfast.  

Harry was just passing by the landing on the second floor when Hermione's voice called out to him. "Harry," she said, making him stop immediately and turn around to face her more eagerly than was dignified.  

"Hermione?"  He took two steps towards her and ran a hand through his hair.  She was just standing outside the room in which Tonks had been placed.  

"Tonks is awake now and I told her Remus was going to Floo her mother to tell her she's all right."  Hermione shut the door and walked over to Harry, fiddling her hands nervously, and asked, "I think she's worried about her mum being all alone if she has to stay here for a week.  It's the holidays and everything and well, I was thinking, maybe Remus should ask her mum if she wants to come and stay here.  She stayed here for a while when she got out of the hospital after Halloween.  What do you think?  Would you mind at all?"  

"Oh, er, no, not at all," Harry said.  He could easily just settle back into their old routine if it would be allowed.  "I'm just going down for breakfast now and I can tell Remus.  Are you coming down?" he asked hopefully.  He could see by her change of clothes from yesterday that and the smell of her shampoo that she'd already showered and changed for the day.

Her arms crossed and she looked away.  "No, no, Dobby already brought us up a tray for breakfast and I wouldn't want to leave Tonks all alone."

The half-hour chime from the grandfather clock in the drawing room sounded and Harry said, "Well, we've got a meeting at ten…I'm not sure if you knew?"  

"Oh, no.  At ten?  I'll be down."  Hermione looked decidedly uncomfortable and Harry didn't think he could wait for chocolates or some make-up gift to stop this awkwardness between them.  

"Hermione…"  She looked up at him briefly then her gaze quickly skittered away.  "Can we…can we talk?  Later, I mean.  I…you deserve to yell at me and scream and…I…I don't want to go on like this."  She looked back at him sharply then and he quickly added, "I mean mad at each other.   You mad at me.  I just…can we talk…please?"

She sighed heavily and met his eyes as she gave a small smile and nodded.  "Yes, we can talk, Harry."  She rolled her eyes then, sighing and clenching her jaw, and said, "I don't know how to be mad at you, Harry.  I know I should be and it's taking every ounce of effort to do it, but it's so hard."  He couldn't help a grin as she turned then and walked back to the door to Tonks' room.  "I'll be down there at ten," she called out.  

Hermione came down to the basement the same time as Moody at exactly ten o'clock.  Dumbledore had arrived just minutes before and announced that he was not expecting McGonagall or Snape this morning as neither had returned from their separate errands. 

"Alastor, Hermione," Dumbledore greeted them each with a nod.  

"Good morning, Professor," Hermione said as she slid into the seat across from Harry and Remus.  

"Morning," Moody grunted as he threw himself into a chair.  

"Well?" Harry asked Moody, impatiently.  "What'd you find out?"

Moody raised a gnarled eyebrow at Harry, but when he saw both Remus and Hermione looking just as eager for an answer he, sighed and pulled out a parchment roll from the pocket of his heavy cloak.  "How's Tonks?" he asked as he unrolled the parchment.  

"She's good," Hermione said, trying to look over at the parchment as she spoke.  "Miffed about being laid up over the hols but she'll recover.  She's prepared to summon you to her and hex you herself if you didn't get anything good out of who she sent you for all the trouble she got from it.  Just to warn you."

Moody nodded and glared at the apparently blank parchment in front of him.  He pulled out his wand, pointed it at the parchment and muttered under his breath to reveal a long listing of scribbled notes.  

"Well," he said, both eyes whizzing across the parchment.  "Snape was right when he said I'd have to hurry with the interrogations.  I got less than five minutes apiece before they dropped dead."

"What?" 

"Why?"

"Alastor?"

Moody waved it away. "Ah, it was about what I expected.  I guessed when Snape had to give us his own Veritaserum.   My guess is that Voldemort laces his servants' food or drink--_never_ trust anyone!--before they leave with a poison that only becomes toxic when they're given Veritaserum.  Keeps anyone who's caught from singing.  Anyway, it's much better this way.  There's no captured Death Eaters to have to imprison, no trials, no official record anyone was even caught so now there's no record of who the Aurors were on detail at the scene to capture them.  Better—see?"  Moody shifted in his seat and as an afterthought, added, "Although I did have a few bodies to transfigure and cart off.  But, all in a day's work."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful and Remus just asked, "Well, so what _did_ you actually find out?  Who were they and what about the third one who was sent to you?"

"A fair bit, Norman Goyle and Moriarity Sprague, the D.O.A. was some guy Sprague I.D.'d as 'Hilden'—a Norwegian."  

"Is that Goyle senior or some other relative?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore answered, "Norman was Gregory's father, yes.  Alastor, what else can you tell us?"

Moody tapped his wand to the parchment in front of him and created duplicates.  "Here," he said, handing them out to each.  "This is the transcript of both interrogations."

_Testing.  This is Alastor Moody.  Yes, it's working.  Ennervate.  Name?_

_Norman Goyle._

_How long have you been a Death Eater?_

_Since I was nineteen._

_Name some other Death Eaters._

_Lestrange, Travers, Malf—_

_First and last names!_

_Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, Rabastan Les—_

_Name Death Eaters who **aren't** locked away and who aren't known!_

_Wormtail?_

_Don't you know **anyone** who's taken the Mark over the past year?_

_My son…_

_What is your son doing as a Death Eater?_

_Serving the Dark Lord._

_How?_

_He is helping Wormtail locate the servants that are being hidden from the Dark Lord.  _

_How?_

_I don't know.  They sometimes use me to test their work._

_How?_

_I don't know.  _

_Where's your master now?_

_At Headquarters._

_Where's that?_

_… I don't know …_

_What's the name of the village you go to when you go to Headquarters?_

_…I don't know…_

_Any idea what part of the country at all where it might be?  Is it in England?  Scotland?_

_The Broads, in England.  _

_Little Hangleton?_

_…I don't know…_

_Is it near the cemetery where your master was resurrected and where he first called his servants to him after thirteen years of silence?_

_Yes.  _

_Little Hangleton.  Are you and the other Death Eaters on the run staying at your headquarters with your master?  _

_Yes, he's not always there.  _

_What does your master want?_

_To rid our world of filthy mudbloods and muggle-lovers._

_Idiot.  What is he planning right now?  Potter—does he have any plans for Potter?_

_To kill, he will kill Potter.  _

_He wants Potter killed?_

_Not yet._

_Why?_

_He wants to kill him.  _

_When?_

_As soon as he can._

_Is he waiting for anything to do this?  Is he going after Potter?_

_He wants the prophecy first.  _

_How is he going to get the prophecy?_

_…….._

_…….._

_How?  Hello?  What the hell…Enervate!  Name?_

_Moriarity Sprague._

_Who's the dead guy on the floor over there?  With his throat slit?_

_Some Norwegian--Hilden.  _

_Why did Goyle drop dead?  Was he poisoned against Veritaserum?_

_I don't know.  _

_Your master's probably poisoned you, too.  Did you know?_

_No.  He's grateful to us._

_Hah!  Grateful…  How many times have you even seen your master?  What do you do for your master?_

_Four times.  I do whatever he asks._

_And what does he ask?  _

_He asks me to find people and where they live and who their family is.  He's asked me to find blood-traitors and mudbloods. _

_How long have you been a Death Eater?_

_A year now._

_Who recruited you and why'd you join up?_

_My father wanted me to join.  We're helping our world cleanse itself._

_Who's your father?  Is he a Death Eater?_

_Yes.  Harlan Sprague._

_What do you and your father do for a living?_

_We run a magical creature distributing service.  He owns the company and I run a lorry to deliver the critters.  _

_Is any of that work for your master?_

_No, but he's had us lend the lorry out to some others.  Won't tell us why or who._

_Tell me what you'd least like the Ministry to find out?_

_Some of the critters aren't cleared from quarantine; sometimes I don't record all the deliv—_

_What about the fact you have the Dark Mark on your arm?_

_We're told not to worry about that.  They know we're only helping._

_Who?  The Ministry?  _

_Yeah._

_How?_

_I don't know.  We're told the Ministry won't trouble us about it.  Just to get on our way and do our assignments._

_What was your assignment tonight?_

_Take out two mudbloods who are breeding.  Kill the family and use the Killing Curse on them and then send up the Mark.  I was to learn to use the Curse tonight.  Never used it.  Only ever played with muggles and never had to use it before.  _

_What do you know of your master's plans about Potter?_

_He plans to kill him._

_Brilliant.  That's all you know?  What does your master say about Potter or Dumbledore?_

_They've got an Order.  He's sending a message to the Order.  _

_When?_

_Tonight._

_How?  Who said? _

_I don't know, that assignment went to someone else.  I overheard them talking about it.  _

_Who?_

_I don't know._

_Who were the other Death Eaters who were with you tonight besides that Hilden and Goyle?  What does Hilden do?_

_Dunno.  I just met him and his mate—he called him Hans--tonight.  Some Asian fellow was with us and Travers, too.  We got dropped off by some guy they call Beater but I knew the way.  I found the address for him.  _

_Many other foreigners who're Death Eaters?_

_Yeah…I can tell from their accents.   _

_What do you know about the prophecy?_

_Supposedly there's some thing that says the Potter boy can kill our master.  It's not true.  _

_Then why'd your master spend a year trying to get at it and why is he still going after it?_

_My pop says it probably tells how Potter will die or how powerful the Dark Lord will become.  _

_Who're the most powerful Death Eaters?_

_There's some guy they call the Hornet who runs a lot of what goes on.  There's a witch who you don't cross.  There's…_

_Hello?  Wake up!  Bloody hell…  Finite Incantatum!_

Harry looked up and saw Hermione still reading, her mouth soundlessly reading the words.   Dumbledore was thoughtfully holding the parchment up and reading through his half-moon glasses as he idly stroked his beard.  Remus looked at Harry.  "Like trying to squeeze water from a rock, eh?"

"Argh!" growled Moody.  "Don't get me started.  I knew with the second bloke that I'd only have a few minutes.  But he knew less than Goyle and that's saying a lot!"

"What's this message to the Order?" Harry asked.  

Dumbledore looked up and nodded.  "I'm wondering about that, too."

"Wonder no longer," Moody said.  "I dropped by Amelia's on my way here this morning and she told me they got the Joneses."

"Hestia?" Remus asked.

Moody nodded.  "Her whole family.  And there was a note left on top of her body."

Harry's eyes met Hermione's.  Neither wanted to ask.  

"And?" Remus pushed.

"Said, 'One by one.'  I imagine he means us, the members of the Order that he knows about."

"The members who _Peter_ knew about," Remus said angrily.  "He wants to start picking us off like last time!"

"Calm down, Remus," Dumbledore said.  "That may very well be true.  I'll send out a warning to all the old members who might be targets now.  I believe we can assume, thanks to the loyalty jinxes arranged by Alastor and Hermione, that our most recent members to join the Order are safe with their identities unknown, yes?"  

He looked to Hermione and she said, "I can go check the parchment, should I?"

"Yes, go now," Dumbledore said as Hermione hurried up and out of the kitchen.  

"What was in the paper this morning?" Harry asked.  "Anything?"

"Not a word on the Dementors, Harry, if that's why you ask," Dumbledore said.  However, the muggle press is an entirely different thing."

"Last I heard it was some exotic fungus," Remus said.  "What is it now?"  

Dumbledore nodded.  "Yes, yes, this is the excuse they seem to be embracing.  The press has also noted that these cases have occurred in many economically disadvantaged communities and so they've begun to blame wholesale importers of fruits or some such nonsense.  I'm not sure how much of this story is conjecture and fabrication by muggles or whether it is something our own Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee has put forth.  Alastor, what did Amelia have to say this morning?"

Moody snorted and said, "Well, she's handling everything, which has made things a right bit easy.  Fudge is off on holiday in some tropical locale and no one's been able to reach him yet.  Fool--it'd be best if he never came back for all of us. Amelia never made record of the information we got yesterday and only those who were there know what happened.  I spoke to the other three on the team with Tonks and told them their lives might depend on them not bragging about helping to snag some Death Eaters."  Moody then pulled out a flask from the inside of cloak and flipped back to cap to take a deep drink.  

"Do we know who was all attacked yet last night?" Remus asked.  

"How _many_ attacks were there?" Harry asked.

"Numbers were still coming in but it seems they all had at least one Dark Mark left hanging over every single one they killed.  So far, Killing Curses--all of them.  At least two dozen separate households set off alarms last night, Amelia said."  

The door swung open and Hermione rushed back inside.  "No one.  The parchment's blank, Professor.  It has to be Wormtail."  Hermione was referring to the parchment she had tied into the loyalty jinxes she'd placed on the doors through which members would walk through to get to a meeting.  If one of them would have betrayed the Order knowingly, then not only would they bear a striking resemblance to Marietta Edgecombe at the end of last year, but on Hermione's parchment, the name of the traitor would appear.  

"Very good," Dumbledore said as Hermione sat down again.  "I did not believe it would be the case, but, it is true we can never be too sure."  Moody grumbled incoherently after this.  

"So," Remus said.  "Where is Severus?  Should he not have returned by now?"

Dumbledore's gaze briefly flickered to Harry and then he said, "He has not.  I am sure…Severus has been called away for days at a time on occasion.  There are no students in his House that are spending their holiday at Hogwarts, so it is possible that Voldemort might see no reason to allow him to return quickly.  It is also possible that he is purposefully being kept from being able to give us any information."  

"Amelia's keeping her teams on high alert the rest of this week," Moody said.  

"Very good then.  I assume you gave her a copy of this transcript?"

"Aye."

Dumbledore looked over the scroll once more and rolled it up. "I'll need to think on this but it is worthwhile information."  

Harry looked back down at his copy and perused it from top to bottom.  As he read, one thing caught his eye: _What is your son doing as a Death Eater? …   He is helping Wormtail locate the servants that are being hidden from the Dark Lord.  _

 "Okay," Harry said, frowning.  "I've got a question.  How can Wormtail and Goyle be working together to find the rest of the Death Eaters?  Goyle's as dumb as he is mean and it's never sounded like Pettigrew was some bright spark.  What can they be doing?"  

"Oh, Peter was smart, Harry," Remus said darkly.  "Not particularly powerful or clever but when it came to things like Runes, Arithmancy, lying to get out of trouble and being a rat--he was a sure thing."

"And Goyle?" Hermione inquired. 

Dumbledore was the one who answered, "Ignorance can make for a very compliant test subject, I fear."  As Dumbledore tucked away the notes from Moody's interrogations, he asked, "Have you each read Harry's report on his visit to Gringotts?"

"Aye," Moody said. "I recommend we Confound Fudge and make him believe he's a goat and let Aberforth at him.  That'd get him off the Goblins."

Harry couldn't help but snort at that and he was even more pleased to see Hermione hide a smile at this.  

"We'll file that as plan B, Alastor.  But I wonder if we might find out more of his motives by finding out who is pressuring him.  I've had a feeling for a long time that Cornelius would regret trusting Lucius Malfoy with the Ministry's treasury and he is acting very much like a desperate man.  I think, with my position on the Wizengamot, that I might be able to barter some immunity for truth, perhaps if it's his own skin that Cornelius is trying to save, the it just might be the bargain."  

"This investigation Planesse is conducting--shouldn't there have been some report yet from him?" Hermione asked. "It's all very fishy to me."

Dumbledore nodded.  "The first of his reports is due at the start of the new year.  It is indeed most anticipated at this point."  

"I hate to break this up," Moody said as he pushed his chair back from the table.  "But I've been up all night."

"Of course, Alastor, of course.  I should be off, too."  Dumbledore turned to Hermione and said, "I suspect you will see Professor McGonagall stop by here on her way back to Hogwarts sometime today.  I believe she might have something of interest to you."  Dumbledore then rose to leave and before he left, he turned back and said, "And I think it should go without saying that as members of the Order, we all need to be especially vigilant."

"Yes, sir," Harry and Hermione chorused.  

"You too, Remus," Dumbledore said with a twinkle.  "I'll be in touch when there is more information.  Happy Christmas if I do not see you before then."

"Harry Christmas, Professor," Harry said with as much cheer as he could muster as he too stood up.  

Remus sighed heavily after Dumbledore left and Hermione asked him, "Are you all right, Remus?"

"Oh, yes," he said pushing his chair back.  "I suppose I should go fetch Andromeda now," he said as he stood up and stretched.  

"You'll be all right?" Harry asked as he poked around at the stove for some leftover bacon from breakfast.    

"Oh yes," Remus said wryly.  "I'll have to restrain myself from transfiguring odd things into rats and then stomping on them, but I'll be fine."  

As Remus left, Harry saw Hermione stop and pause by the door.  "I left Tonks reading the morning papers," she said as she eyed him cautiously.  

"Do you, er, want to talk now?" he asked, walking over to her.  

"Yes," she said with a deep breath.  "But, let's go upstairs.  I need to use the loo."

Harry waited in the dining room, feeling unaccountably nervous all of a sudden because he knew he'd have to string together all sorts of words to make some sort of sense very soon.  _But she doesn't want to be mad at me…and I don't want to be mad at her_.    His logic still did little to stop his stomach from flipping over when he heard Hermione emerge from the hall loo.  

"Hey," he said as he stepped out to the arched doorway.   

She stopped and eyed him for a moment before walking towards him steadily, stopping just a few feet away.  "Hey."  He couldn't tear his eyes away from her.  

"So…I had all the--"

"Stop, just stop," she said, holding up her hands and taking a small step forward.  "Obviously you've wanted to apologize.  I know."  Harry nodded, not sure what she was going to say.  "But I'd forgive you even if you didn't.  In all the years I've known you, Harry, I've never _really_ been angry with you for any length of time.  Frustrated?  Yes.  Exasperated?  Yes.  Concerned? More times than I can _count_…but, Harry, even when you and Ron weren't talking to me after I had McGonagall take your Firebolt, I was hurt and alone but I couldn't be mad at you for very long."

"I'm sorry," Harry said regretfully.  "You _should_ be mad at me."  

Hermione gave him a raised-eye look.  "According to you I _should_ be mad at you and I _shouldn't_ love you?"

"Hermione," Harry groaned as he fought to keep the walls of his chest from pounding.  

"Don't 'Hermione' me!" she said crossly.  "If I want to tell you I love you than you're going to have to let me, Harry!  I don't care if you _never_ manage to say those words to me but I…I _know_ and--" Her eyes welled with tears and her lower lip was trembling.  "I _know_ that your… your eyes…they don't lie," she said, choking.  She sobbed once and turned to the side, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand.  

Harry didn't know what to say but he couldn't take his eyes off her or stop himself from reaching out for her one hand that hung by her side.  His fingers grasped at hers, her eyes still shinning with tears as she grasped back.  Her words pierced right through his heart as she said, "Harry, I don't _ever_ want to regret not telling you that.  _I love you_." 

Words could not define what Harry felt.  He kept blinking and couldn't quite grasp the reality in front of him.  "You…you're not angry with me?"

Hermione laughed as she still wiped away at her tears with her free hand.  "Of course I'm still a bit angry and there's plenty I still want to say to you, but…you _have_ to know that no matter what you think you have to hide about yourself--no matter _what_--I'll _always_ be there for you…as long as you want me to be the one."

His hand clutched reflexively at hers and he tugged her to him.  Burying his face in her hair as their fingers entwined.  The moment was almost perfect if not for the sudden sound of the front door opening behind them.  

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione said, jerking back from Harry as soon as she saw her stern Head of House.  "Hello—oh—OH!  Oh my god!  _Mum_!  _Dad_!  How--?"  Hermione lunged past Harry and at her parents, engulfing them both in a tremendous hug.  "How did you--?  But I thought--?"  She kept trying to ask how they'd gotten here but they just laughed, her mum in tears along with Hermione.  

Harry felt a vague stab of jealousy as he watched Hermione reunite with her parents and then immediately felt guilty for feeling it at all.  "Happy holidays, Potter," McGonagall said as she nodded and walked over to him.  She was wearing a long tweed coat and dug into a pocket, searching for something.  "Here," she said, handing Harry a palm sized set of luggage.  "Think you can handle the Grangers' things?"

"This was your errand, Professor?" he asked her, looking down at the small set of shrunken luggage.  

She smiled at Harry.  "Yes, I thought it would be a nice surprise for the holidays to bring them back.  How is your holiday so far, Potter, well I trust?"

Harry grimaced and smiled wryly.  "You haven't picked up any of your cauldron post, have you?"  

Her face, usually very controlled and rarely expressive to the point of telling her mood, fell quickly and she demanded, "What's happened?  What have I missed?"

Hermione and her parents were well occupied with each other and Harry gestured for McGonagall to follow him down into the kitchen.  He spent well over an hour giving her all the updates of the past several days.  He summoned copies of all reports that she'd yet to pick up and let her read them quickly as he glossed over the important facts.  By the time he was done, her lips were pursed in a thin line and she looked very tired as she murmured, "Happy holidays, indeed."  

She stood and announced, "I should get back then.  I am quite sure Professor Dumbledore will find it easier to attend to business if I am there at school.  I thank you, Harry, for catching me up."  As was everyone's habit of late, she sighed heavily before saying, "I do wish you a happy Christmas and I will see you on Saturday for the Celebration.  Do take care."

As Harry walked up to see McGonagall out the door, Remus was just arriving with Andromeda Tonks in tow.  

Remus smiled as Harry held open the door.  He was leading a tall and slim dark-haired woman who, although obviously older, had the same youthful and sprightly face that was most often known as Tonks.  "Harry, you've never met Andy—Andromeda Tonks.  Andy—this is Harry."

"Hello Mrs. Tonks.  May I take your cloak?" Harry asked as she stepped in, stopped and looked at him.  

Immediately, Harry was reminded of the odd sort of detached observance he often associated with Luna Lovegood.  "Yes, yes I am," she said.  

Harry wasn't sure what she meant and he hesitated to take her cloak but then she did turn around and began to shrug it off.  As Harry slipped the cloak off her shoulders and hung it up on the hall tree, he looked to Remus questioningly.  Remus just gave an almost imperceptible nod.  

She turned back around then and held out her hand to Harry as she said, "I'm Andy.  You can call me Andy."  She only weakly grasped Harry's hand and, for a moment, he thought she expected him to kiss it or something.  

"Er, McGonagall brought the Grangers over for the holidays, Remus.  Did you know they were coming?" Harry asked, not sure how to make conversation with Tonks' mum.

"No, but I'm sure Hermione's pleased.  Andy?  Let's show you to your room.  We'll put you right next to your daughter since the Grangers, I'd imagine, will be taking the larger room."  

Harry followed them upstairs and let Remus show her to a room.  He saw Hermione in the drawing room, explaining to her parents how they made the self-contained snowstorm spell that kept a continual flurry of snow falling over the glittering Christmas tree.   

"Hey you," he heard Tonks call out.  

Harry smiled and turned into Tonks' room.  She was back to her normal appearance and was propped up now against the headboard and had a mound of pillows behind her.   She had a copy of the Daily Prophet open on her lap.  

"Your mum just arrived.  Remus is getting her settled in," Harry told her.

Tonks smiled.  "Good.  I hope you don't mind she's here?"  Harry shook his head and sat down on the bed beside hers.  "Do I have to hex you now or will you tell me what Moody had to say in your meeting?"    

Harry laughed and reached into his back pocket.  "Here's a transcript—read it when you get time.  How're you feeling?"

"Lousy," she said as she grabbed the parchment.  "Well, not really, actually, my legs—not that I have any—they feel sore but they don't hurt at all.  When I got hit, it hurt like you wouldn't _believe_!  I was never so happy to be Stunned in my life!  Who's Hermione leading around?  She just walked right past before and didn't even stop to have them say hi."  Tonks' spirits were never dampened for long.  

Harry laughed again.  "Her parents."

"Oh, ouch."

"What?"

"Well," Tonks lowered her voice now: "They're kind of cutting into your holiday quality time with the girlfriend, aren't they?  I mean, I'm sure she misses them but you know, I'm just thinking of you, Harry."  She grinned and winked at him, "All about you."  

Harry shrugged.  "Not much to cut into since she's been sore at me."  Harry stood up then and, before Tonks could ask, he said, "Do you want me to get your mum?  I'm sure she wants to see you."  

Tonks narrowed her eyes and glared at Harry.  "What'd you do?"

"Why do you assume it was me?"

"You are the guy, aren't you?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "I was a prat."

"You apologize?"  

"Yes."  She looked skeptical.  "I did!"  He sighed.  "And I'll do it again and whatever else I need to do.  I think she might have already forgiven me but I'm not sure.  Look, I'm knackered."

"It's barely noon!"

"Someone decided to drop by at three in the morning and wake up the whole house!" he countered with a teasing smile.  

"Are you giving the invalid a hard time?" Tonks asked with a mock scowl, crossing her arms and knocking several pages of the paper off the bed.

"I believe he is," Remus said from the doorway.  "But hey, we're always amenable to helpless women who are brought to our doorstep in the middle of the night."  Harry yawned then and Remus looked at him.  "Either you need a nap or you think beautiful blonds turning up in the middle of the night is old news."

They laughed and Harry said, "Not really.  But I could do with a nap.  You too, I'm sure.  I didn't get much sleep last night."  Harry had to promise Tonks he'd visit with her more later and that he wouldn't let her sit it in the room and rot away be she let him slip away.  

But no sooner did he turn down the hallway and walk towards the stairs, did Hermione, turn up in front of him.  "Harry, there you are--did Professor McGonagall, by any chance tell you where she put my parents luggage?"    

"Oh, er yeah.  I've got it here," Harry said as he pulled it from the pocket of his jeans.  "Here," he said as he gave her the handful of luggage.  "You're setting them up in the room at the end of the hall where Mr and Mrs Weasley stayed, right?"

"Oh yes, Dobby is already flying all around the room and making my dad nearly laugh his head off.  They started off asking for the loo and then, every turn we took, there was something they'd never seen before.  I kind of got caught up showing them around.  Is Professor McGonagall gone, already?"  

"Yeah, I caught her up on everything that's been going on.  Remus arrived with Tonks' mum just now.  It's er, a bit of a full house all of a sudden." 

"Yes," Hermione smiled brightly.  "It rather reminds me of being here last year when the house was full.  Do you remember?"  

How could Harry forget?  He'd never seen Sirius so happy and carefree as he'd strung up garland over the elf-heads and sang 'God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs'.  It was the last time, besides the night of his death that Harry had been around Sirius.  

"Harry?" Hermione said, laying a hand on his arm.  "Is it all right that my parents are here?"

"What?  Of, course!" he said hurriedly.  "No, no, I was just thinking."  He shook his head to clear his thoughts.  "I'm fine," he said firmly.  

Hermione cupped his cheek in her hand and turned his face to look squarely at hers.  "You're fine?"

"_Fine_," he said as he smiled at her and placed a hand at her waist.  Abruptly, Harry asked, "Are we?  Fine that is, are _we_ fine?"  Hermione arched her eyebrows and he quickly added, "I mean, you get to still tell me off if you like and I can still get you chocolates and flowers and jewellery and whatever else you need to know how sorry I am but…we _are_ fine--aren't we?"  

In answer, she pulled his face down gently to hers and pressed her lips to his softly before resting her forehead against his.  "Always."

There was a loud clearing of a throat from behind them and they then heard a disapproving male voice say, "If you're done holding my daughter, then?" 

*          *            *            *            *            *            *            *

Also Note:  I must give credit to Sushi--the Bone Shatterer Curse (she called it the Boneshatterer Hex) was originally her idea and I stole it simply because I liked it!  (Just like I've stolen Harry and Hermione and Remus and Tonks….)

And Finally:  There is a Yahoo group for this fic.  There is a link on my bio page or you can find it with the group name HP_AoF.  


	40. Chapter 43 Daughter Dearest

Chapter 43. Daughter Dearest

In answer, she pulled his face down gently to hers and pressed her lips to his softly before resting her forehead against his. "Always," she whispered.

There was a loud clearing of a throat from behind them and they then heard a disapproving male voice say, "If you're done holding my daughter, then?" 

-   -   -   -   -   -   -   -   -   - 

"Da-_ad_!" Hermione hissed as she spun around, backing up protectively in front of Harry.  Harry's heart was pounding wildly and his first instinct was to retort that no, he was not done holding Hermione, thank you very much.  However, now as his survival instincts kicked in, he felt that perhaps getting caught snogging a father's daughter was not a good thing and if he wanted to live to see another day, he ought to run for it.

Harry had always seen Mister Granger as a rather meek and quiet man; he was tall and willowy, with very short, light brown hair. Perhaps he'd always thought of this man as meek just because any time Harry had ever seen Hermione's parents, they'd been amongst wizards and had probably never really felt very comfortable when crossing over into the unfamiliar Wizarding world.  Either way, Hermione's father was currently anything but meek; he seemed to have grown taller and the cold look he had trained upon Harry was doing a very good job of appearing to be menacing.  

"Hermione," he said curtly, keeping Harry skewered upon his stare.  "I think you ought to go to your mother right now.  I'd like a word with your…_friend_."  Harry's stomach was churned with dread.  

"Dad," Hermione said, just as curtly.  "You are _not_ going to have a word with Harry right now and furthermore, you'd do well to remember you are guest here in _his_ house."  Hermione's head was raised in defiance and Harry wasn't sure which was more frightening: the protectiveness of the father for his daughter, or Hermione's fierce resistance and protectiveness of Harry.  

Slowly, Mister Granger's eyes slid from Harry (narrowed and glaring), to Hermione (wide and astonished).  "This is not up for discussion, Hermione," he said archly.  

"I'm glad we agree on that, Dad," Hermione said, not missing a beat and definitely not backing down.  

A _crack!_ sounded then and Dobby, bouncing in front of Harry and Hermione with a worried look on his face, announced, "Harry Potter must come with Dobby at once, sir!"

Harry felt a tremendous sense of relief for a moment until Hermione asked, "What's wrong?  What happened, Dobby?"

Dobby just shook his head vigorously, making his ears flap.  "Oh no, Dobby is only needing Harry Potter.  Come with me, sir!  It is most urgent!" he said as he _cracked_ again and reappearing at the other end of the room by the other set of doors and waving.  "Come on!  Harry Potter must hurry!"

Harry looked once at Hermione; she nodded firmly and said, "I need to speak with _both_ of my parents right now, Harry.  We will talk later."  Harry could see out of the corner of his eye that her father had crossed his arms and was watching the whole scene closely.   

"Excuse me then," he said as he turned and followed Dobby.  Deep down, Harry already suspected that Dobby's 'urgent' matter was really a ruse to spare Harry an uncomfortable confrontation with Hermione's father.  He also made a note in his head to get Fred and George to make some Whizbangles that spelled out phrases like, 'Dobby is the best house elf ever!' and 'Harry Potter is most grateful to Dobby!'

"Come on Harry Potter!" Dobby called now from the staircase leading up the third floor.  "Dobby must show you something!  Harry Potter will be most pleased."  

Now Harry wasn't sure what Dobby meant.  Wasn't this just a ruse?  "Where are we going, Dobby?" he asked as they climbed the stairs.  

"Come on," Dobby said still bouncing up the stairs.  They didn't stop once they reached the third floor, however.  Dobby lead Harry to the end of the corridor on the landing and to a door which hid yet another staircase leading up the attic.  

The attic, Harry saw, was just one large room that ran the entire length and width of the house.  The ceiling was peaked and there were three small diamond-shaped dormer windows on each side.  The vast room was largely vacant but still held a great deal of miscellaneous stuff.  Many pieces of old furniture were sitting out and he even recognized a few of the nicer, less Slytherin and less mouldy pieces, which had been in the house before its Gryffindor make-over.  

"Over here, Harry Potter!" Dobby called out from one corner of the room.  Harry walked over and saw a great white sheet spread out over something upon the floor.  It was only about a foot off the ground and he wondered what was beneath it.  With a snap of his fingers, Dobby made the sheet vanish, revealing a small sea of red and white roses in numerous vases just sitting upon the dusty attic floor.  

"Wha…"  Harry didn't know what to say.

"Dobby knew Harry Potter was looking to get flowers," he said, nodding his head enthusiastically.  "Dobby helps!"

"But _where_?  _How_?"  Harry asked, grinning at Dobby and then looking back at the wondrous display of roses.  He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes as the deep, heady scent filled his senses.  "Dobby…this is _incredible_…how did you _know_?"

Dobby was beaming and positively glowing with Harry's pleased astonishment.  "Is this what Harry Potter wanted?"

"Yes, oh yes, Dobby," Harry said, nodding his head and grinning.  "How did you know I wanted to fill up Hermione's room with flowers?"

Dobby just beamed and looked about to cry he was so happy.  "Dobby got these this morning when I is going to the market.  Dobby knew Harry Potter would wants these just like Dobby knew Harry Potter wanted to leave the drawing room."  

Harry grinned at Dobby and nodded again.  "Yes, I…I can't thank you enough Dobby.  You are a very quick thinker.  How can we get all these into Hermione's room now?  Oh—but I don't want her father to see just now.  He's probably upset at me as it is."

"Dobby can move them with a snap, Harry Potter!"  Dobby's smile fell and he looked sternly at Harry, pointing a long finger and saying, "Harry Potter should be getting rest!  He is not getting enough sleep last night and needs to rest now.  Harry Potter should go rest and Dobby will take care of his roses and make sure no one is bothering Harry Potter!"  

Harry couldn't much argue with the fact that he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep and that he was tired.  He also couldn't argue with wanting to avoid Hermione's father for a while.  He sighed and said, "Yeah, I guess you're right, Dobby.  You'll put all these flowers all over Hermione's room then?  By tonight--after dinner?"  Dobby nodded vigorously.  "All right.  Thank you!" Harry called out as he turned to go downstairs.  

Once back in his room, Harry quickly picked up the Diagon Alley catalogue he'd been leafing through yesterday and pulled his moneybag out to place the order for chocolates.  He saw he could get a rush order discount if he sent his own owl to pick up the order and elected for this option.  _There—chocolates and flowers_, he said to himself.

"Here Hedwig," he said, rolling up a copy of the ordering form he'd used.  "You'll need to go to Diagon Alley and pick this up for me."  Hedwig eyed the scroll and, still keeping her head under her wing, reluctantly stuck out one leg for him to tie it on.  "I know you'd rather sleep, but you need to pick this up so I can properly apologize for being a prat."  

Hedwig looked at him like she well knew she couldn't argue with this and so she hopped over to the windowsill where she flew away as Harry cranked open the window.  

_Flowers and chocolates are more than enough hopefully.  If the flowers are enough then I'll save the chocolates for later_, Harry mused as he kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed.  _And if I need to resort to jewellery…well, I'll need to find someone to help me pick that out, as I've not a clue.  Maybe I could just send Hedwig and tell her to find something…_  He snorted at the ridiculous notion that he would resort to letting Hedwig pick out something and then began to yawn.  He had to force himself to sort through his whirling thoughts before he allowed himself to nap.  

He wondered what Hermione and her parents were discussing right now.  Her father didn't look too happy to see he and Hermione together when he found them.  _And we'd barely kissed!  Imagine if he'd have seen…no—that was not something he wanted to imagine_.  

Harry also realized he didn't know a whole lot about the Grangers except that they were muggles, lived—_used_ to live—in Northampton, they were both dentists and Hermione was their only child.  He'd seen them at Kings Cross a few times and once in Diagon Alley before his second year.  Mister Weasley had always been intently focused on asking the Grangers all sorts of questions about being muggles and living in the muggle world.  Harry sighed as he rolled over on his side, pulling the covers up tight.  This holiday just wasn't turning out to be anything at all like he'd planned.  

"Harry," a soft voice whispered as a hand lightly carded through his hair.  

"Mmm," was his incoherent reply as he leaned into the touch.

"Har-ry," the voice—Hermione's—lilted and sang softly into his ear.  "You've slept the afternoon away, Harry.  It's time for dinner," she said.  

Harry stretched out beneath the covers and cracked open one eye to see Hermione sitting on his bed and leaning down over him, watching with a smile and a hand upon his chest.  He had one arm lying out atop the duvet and he lifted it now to her face; caressing her cheek and then sliding it around to cup the back of her neck.  He pulled her down to him and levered himself up to meet her mouth with his.  He was hungry for her and he quickly deepened the kiss to seek more of her to taste.  His body was quickly responding and just as thoughts of arriving fashionably late to dinner had begun to form in his mind, Hermione pulled back and gave him one last short, chaste kiss before standing up and announcing, "We need to go to dinner."

Harry groaned and dropped back into his pillows.  He yawned then and reached over to pluck his glasses from his bedside table.  As he slipped them on his face he recalled the events of morning and the fact that her parents—including a rather protective father--were here now.  

He asked, "How'd everything go with your parents?"  He looked the clock on the mantle and said, "Were you talking with them all afternoon?  Oh god—what does your dad want to talk to me about?  I get the feeling he really does not like me."

Hermione laughed and quickly sobered, saying, "Yes, well, you've been spared this afternoon because Dobby told everyone you were sleeping and needed rest.  Remus has been out most of the afternoon, too.  Dobby said the both of you spent all of last night up by the fire?"  

Harry nodded.  "Yeah, although we fell asleep after a while.  It was a very long night."

"Well, Dobby wouldn't let anyone up here and made sure you were both allowed to rest.  But now, well, I—well—" She seemed to be searching for the words to say and she sighed heavily.  "I should warn you," she said, making Harry look over warily as he slid out from beneath the covers to stand on the other side of the bed.  "My… my dad is…Harry, he's always been very protective of me," she hedged.  

Harry waited for more of an explanation and walked over to step into his shoes.  "And?" he prompted.

"Well, like when I came home after fourth year and told my mum about meeting Viktor.  She was, well—_concerned_ is a good word.  She just thought he was a bit old for me.  But it really didn't matter because I told both Mum and Dad that I didn't have time to bother with a long distance relationship or anything like that." Hermione sighed and wrung her hands as she sat upon the footbench at the end of the bed.  "Mum wanted to give me The Talk—you know," she threw Harry a dark look, "but I got out of it by saying I wasn't old enough to worry about that sort of thing.  Apparently, that was exactly the right thing to say because she was very happy and told Dad and he was very pleased and they never brought it up again." 

Harry sat down beside her and saw that she was very nervous.  She only wrung her hands, worried her bottom lip and rambled on like this when she was very nervous.  

"They've asked, you know," she said, looking at him.  "About you and even Ron.  Asked me why I never had any friends who were girls.  It's a good thing we have been friends for so long; if I'd only started talking about you two when I got to be bit older, they'd have pulled me from Hogwarts years ago."  She gave a high, strained laugh.  "They still think it's a bit dodgy that it's a co-ed school with girls and boys all in one House and without any chaperones living in the House to keep us apart."  Hermione studied her hands.  "So yeah, I expect my dad to grill you a bit."  

Harry fleetingly wished for a Skiving Snackbox so that he might fake illness and avoid dinner and her father henceforth.  

"I told them we're serious," Hermione said quietly, not looking up.  "They asked whether you and I were serious.  I…I didn't know what to say."  She took a deep breath and looked at Harry before saying, "Harry, I don't know how to tell them and explain about the war and everything that's going on.  I don't really want them to know; I don't want them to worry.  They only think in terms of _their_ world and they just don't understand how things are.  Please Harry…don't worry about this and just humor me and put up with my dad?"  Without waiting for an answer, she dropped her head in her hands then and groaned loudly.  "Arrgh!  I hate this!"

"What?" Harry asked, slightly startled by her sudden reaction.

"My parents!" she wailed into her hands.  She slapped her palms down onto her knees then and looked at him as she said, "They drive me _crazy_!  I had forgotten how difficult it was for me to be around them both.  I haven't spent more than a few short weeks with them for well over a year and half now.  It's just so…they're so…_stifling_!"  She was up now, arms crossed and pacing the room in front of the fireplace.  "They're asking questions now, too; questions about our world and why they can't go home.  I haven't figured out yet how to tell them the house has been destroyed."  Harry gaped at her.  "Oh I told them there was an 'attack' and they were lucky they were out of the country but…  They're suspicious now about what's going on that's so dangerous and asking how I can be safe.  They're scared, Harry.  I saw it."  She stopped and looked desperately to Harry for help.  "I showed them all the things I can do with magic.  I thought they'd be excited, as I've never been able to do magic in front of them.  Harry…they looked like they were scared of _me_.  I could _see_ it."

Harry blinked.  He'd never imagined how it must be for a muggleborn like Hermione who had to go off and separate from a family that loved her and cared about her.  He'd had no such experience with the Dursleys and had always seen magic and the Wizarding world as his escape.  He stood and walked to Hermione.  He pulled her into an embrace and said, "I'm sure they were just overwhelmed."  

The walk downstairs was very short as Remus stopped them just outside the drawing room.  "Hey, I think we're going to eat up here.  I just worked out putting on a set of wheels onto Tonks' bed so she can join us if we stay on this floor.  Sound okay?"  

Hermione nodded absently and Harry noted that she looked pale.  Harry also nodded and felt a pit in his stomach that vaguely resembled the dread he felt just before he knew he'd be going out to face down a Hungarian Horntail_.  But her father can't be worse than a dragon, can he?_

"Harry," Remus said.  "Help me wheel Tonks in, would you?"  

Harry nodded, relieved for a brief delay.  _Best not to walk in there with Hermione anyway, he thought to himself.  Distance yourself from her a bit and maybe he'll forget it was me he saw snogging her.  Yeah, that's it… I'm so doomed_.  

"You all right?" Remus asked as they walked to Tonks' room.  

"Yeah.  No.  She's going spare," he said, feeling a bit spare himself.  "Hey Tonks."

"Hermione?" Remus asked.  

"Yeah."  The gnawing feeling was eating away at the inside of this stomach.  "Her parents know we're together and her dad apparently wants to kill me—no, I mean _grill_ me.  With questions."  

"So we heard," Tonks said.  She was propped up in her bed like before but now the bed had been shrunk a bit in its width, had two side rails up by her head to keep all the pillows on and there were now four wheels on each corner.   "We could hear Hermione and her dad having a row in the hallway before she made him go into their room earlier.  It doesn't sound like he's very keen on his little girl having a boyfriend," she said with a grimace.  

Harry pulled a face and sighed dejectedly.  "Yeah.  How are you doing, Tonks?"  

"Not too bad today."

"Harry," Remus said.  "Grab the foot of her bed and lead it through the doorway."

"I could do this myself, you know," Tonks said rolling her eyes and watching Harry grab the foot rail on the bed.  

"Yeah right," Remus said with a laugh.  "You can barely manuever your own body without banging into something.  You think we're going to let you careen down hallways and into walls with this thing?"

Tonks harrumphed and crossed her arms as they wheeled her out into the hallway and angled the bed around to go into the drawing room.  She eyed Harry and asked, "You worked out how you're going to apologize yet?  It'd be the worst time now to have Hermione be—" She looked over Harry's shoulder.  "Oh hello, Hermione!  You going to introduce me yet or is the cripple too unimportant to meet your parents?"

Harry turned over his shoulder and saw Hermione standing with her arms crossed, just in front of her mother, who was looking concernedly at Tonks, and her father who was standing almost exactly like Hermione with his arms crossed and a rather displeased expression.  

"Tonks—meet my parents.  Mum, Dad—meet Tonks.  She's not a cripple like she claims," Hermione said as she moved a chair out the way at one end of the dining table to make room for the modified bed.  

"Miranda," her mother said, stepping forward and offering a hand to Tonks.  "Philip is my husband.  I believe we just met your mother, Andy?"

"Yeah," Tonks said, looking over and spying her mother sitting on a sofa by the fireplace and staring unseeingly at the enchanted Christmas tree.  "Mum, we're going to eat now!" she called out.  

"Isn't 'Tonks' your surname, though?" Hermione's mother asked.  

"Oh, well yes, but I'll hex anyone who calls me by my first name so just call me 'Tonks'."

"Yes, and I'm Andy."  Harry saw Tonks' mum standing up behind her daughter now and extending her hand to Hermione's mum who looked slightly bewildered.  

"Yes," she said slowly.  "We just met, I believe.  A few moments ago?"

Harry felt like he was caught in a surreal reality where nothing at all seemed quite right. 

"Let's be seated, shall we?" Remus said a tad too cheerfully.  "Dinner should arrive just as we are seated.  Andy?  Would you like to sit here beside your daughter?"  He pulled out a chair and Andromeda Tonks, with a very dignified air, seated herself at the table and folded her hands in her lap primly.  

Remus gestured to the seats on the other side of the table to the Grangers.  Her father gave Harry a narrow-eyed look and then turned to Tonks and said, "So, Andy, Tonks, I'm not exactly clear…who are you and why are you both here?"

"Dad!" Hermione said.

"What?" he said innocently.  "I'm not sure about anything to do with where we are or whose house this is.  You haven't exactly been forthcoming with answers."

"Philip, I think we can let this drop for now and just enjoy a nice meal."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him around the table.  "Sit here beside me," she said through gritted teeth.  She sat beside her mother and Harry sat at one end of the table, opposite Tonks.  

Remus, nodding around at the table, sat opposite the Grangers and beside Andy, just to Harry's right.  "Well, I guess I can answer some questions about the house," he said as dishes of food and pitchers of drink appeared on the table.  The Grangers leaned back a bit, surprised at the sudden appearance of the food.  "Ah, yes, sorry about that," Remus said.  "I should have warned you."

"The house elves, they serve the meals with magic," Hermione said, not looking at her parents, but starting in on dishing food onto her plate.  "Most of the Wizarding world keeps them as slaves, but Dobby and Winky are paid workers.  Salad, Harry?"

Harry nodded, allowing her to fill his salad plate.  

"So, this house?" Mrs. Granger asked.  

"Ah, yes," Remus said, pouring himself and Andy a glass of wine.  "It technically belongs to Harry's godfather.  However, he gave it to the Order to use before his unfortunate death last year."  Remus sighed and looked down into his glass of red wine, swirling it. "He hasn't been declared dead and we're afraid he didn't leave a will to speak of.  But if things went according to the law as it stands and all else went smoothly, Harry, would inherit the house as his next of kin."

"Wine, mother?" Hermione asked, turning primly towards her mother and holding the bottle.  

Her mother looked distracted a moment, nodded and then looked back to Remus and Harry.  "But why hasn't your godfather been declared dead yet?  You said he passed away last year."  She looked at Harry and said, "I'm very sorry to hear about your loss."

Neither Harry nor Remus said anything in immediate answer and Hermione brightly asked, "So, Mum, Dad, tell me all about Venezuela.  What did you do there?"

Harry cringed at the sudden and blatant attempt to change the subject and saw her parents exchange a look before her father said, "Hermione, you know it's impolite to interrupt a conversation.  Now, we were talking about your godfather, Harry, weren't we?  You were going to tell us why he's not been able to be declared dead yet after he passed aw-"

"He didn't pass away," Harry said curtly.  "He was murdered and there's no body to show for it."

Mister Granger frowned at him and asked, "Then how do _you_ know he's dead?  You sound rather sure of yourself but if there's no body…"  He had the same maddening imperious tone that Hermione sometimes got when she just didn't think something was making sense.  

"Because I watched as he was murdered," Harry said shortly as Remus inhaled sharply.  That seemed to make Mister Granger speechless for a moment at least, Harry noted with some satisfaction.  

Tonks took the opportunity to chime in.  "Sirius—Harry's godfather—was my mum's cousin," she said gesturing with her fork towards her mum who was serenely eating and not looking bothered at all by the topic at hand.  "The house is also the Headquarters for the Order, which I'm sure you had to memorize in order to get in here, right?"

"Yes," Mrs. Granger said slowly.  "We weren't really sure what that was all about.  I imagine that's the reason this house if safe for you all?  Hermione told us when she came here last summer that the house would be hidden.  One minute there was nothing, then we read this slip of paper and suddenly—poof—there's this house!"

"Yes, Mum," Hermione said archly.  "I already told you.  It's called the Fidelius Charm and I explained at least three times how it works."  

Tonks waved this off, smiling.  "Yeah, but Hermione, no one listens to you when you get on a lecturing rant about some spell."  She turned to the Grangers.  "We don't blame you for tuning her out.   But you asked why I was here and my mum.  See, I'm part of the Order and as I took a curse here," she gestured to her boneless legs, "I'm needing a place to recover for about a day or two."

"Try a week," Remus corrected.

"Whatever," Tonks said, sending a wink at Harry.  "I'm a quick mender. My mum is here because she loves her little ole daughter—me—so much she just doesn't want to be away from me," finished with a smirk.  "Right Mum?"

"Yes dear," her mother replied with out even looking up.  

Harry noticed that Hermione was rather viciously stabbing pieces of lettuce and greens with her fork as he himself was only pushing around the food on his plate; not much of an appetite at all.  

Her father was looking shrewdly at Harry and he braced himself as Mister Granger began to talk.  "So, may I ask who killed your godfather?  Was it this Dark Lord fellow who Hermione's talked about?"

Andromeda Tonks looked up then at Mister Granger and said, "Oh, it was my sister."  

Harry blinked.  He just could not comprehend how bizarre this meal was thus far.  And they were only on the salad.  

Mrs. Granger then, very politely, asked Tonks, "So what did happen to you?  You said you were cursed, was it?"

"Oh yeah," Tonks said dismissively.  "Curse shattered the bones in my legs and so they took them away.  I've got to let the tissue or something or other rest and recover before they'll allow Harry to give me the stuff to grow my bones back.  So, Harry, when did you ever have to regrow any bones?  What happened?"

Harry smiled wryly and explained.  "I took a Bludger to the arm and unfortunately Gilderoy Lockhart thought he'd fix it up for me.  He vanished all the bones in my arm and hand even.  It took a whole night in the hospital wing to grow them all back."

"Did you still catch the Snitch?" Tonks asked, grinning.   Harry smiled and nodded.  Tonks turned to the Grangers and said, "Harry's the Quidditch Captain for Gryffindor.  He was the youngest Seeker in over a _century_ at Hogwarts and he owns a _Firebolt_!  He's a brilliant flyer."  Tonks grinned cheekily at Harry across the table.  

"Cheers," he said laughing softly.  

"So," Mister Granger said, turning to Harry.  "I'm not completely sure what that all means but it sounds like you're a rather popular boy then, Harry.  Star athlete and all that.  You have a lot of girlfriends then?"

"Philip," Mrs. Granger said quietly out of the side of her mouth.  

"Well, it stands to reason!" he said defensively.  He gestured around the house and said, "This house appears that even if it's not technically yours, you're still well to do.  According to Hermione, well, I recall her telling us several years ago about you—you're rather famous among your kind, aren't you?  I'd imagine a boy like yourself would have girls left and right."

"Dad!"  Hermione said scathingly, glaring down past her mother at him.  "That's enough!"

"Oh, Harry's never been linked in the papers to anyone but Hermione," Tonks said, obviously thinking she was being helpful.  

"Papers?" Mrs. Granger asked with an arched eyebrow and looking from Tonks to Harry.  

"Your affairs make the society pages, do they?" Mister Granger asked with a glare at Harry.  Every question and comment from his mouth seemed to have no safe answer and Harry wondered if there was a spell he could use to make himself ill so he could leave.  

"Dad…" Hermione said in a low warning tone.  

Mister Granger turned to give his daughter a withering look.  "I believe you agreed that I could talk to your…_boyfriend_ and get to know him?  No?"

"I never said you could be an arse about it!" Hermione shot back, making her mother flinch as she was seated in between father and daughter.

"Hermione, dear, that is not polite," she admonished.

"Neither is Dad!" Hermione said, her voice rising shrilly.  "I would _never_ act like he is now at someplace where I was a guest!  He's being incorrigible and rude!"

Her father blustered and puffed himself up.  "Well—I—"

"Philip," Mrs. Granger said, a hand on her husband's arm.  "Hermione is right. We are being terribly rude."  She turned to Harry and, smiling politely, asked, "Harry, as you can guess, my husband and I would very much like to get to know you better.  Our daughter has spoken of you so very often over the years and we've never had a real opportunity to get to know you.  Might we agree to allow our dinner conversation to go on more smoothly and agree for the four of us to sit together and have our own chat after dinner?"  

Harry swallowed a small mouthful of salad with some difficulty and forced himself to nod and answer, "Yes, Mrs. Granger.  That sounds like a fine idea."  Hermione shot him a commiserating look.  

The salad plates then disappeared from the table and were replaced by the next course.  Tonks, eager to steer the talk back onto something enjoyable, insisted that Mister Granger try the excellent wine.  As she poured, she gave Harry a wink and offered to explain the game of quidditch to the Grangers.  

The rest of the dinner passed with relative ease.  They discussed quidditch, the courses taught at Hogwarts, the various careers a witch or wizard might pursue and heard several descriptions of various countries the Grangers had visited over the past years.  Mister Granger, by comparison to his initial surliness, seemed positively subdued now.  

Harry, despite being lulled into an uneasy calm throughout the dinner, still felt a certain dread at the impending 'chat' with Hermione's parents.  He was used to adults needling him and treating him rudely; the Dursleys and Professor Snape came immediately to mind.  However, he'd never cared one way or the other to avoid offending either the Dursleys or Snape when answering their rude and belligerent questions.  He had a feeling it would be preferable to win the Grangers' approval rather than retort rudely as he'd done when he'd been pressed to answer about Sirius.  That was definitely going to take some discipline.  

As the pudding was cleared from the table, Harry noted that both Tonks and Remus were sending him sympathetic and supportive looks.  Remus, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder announced he would help Tonks back to her room.  She pouted a bit about being sent back to her room but cheered up when Harry said he'd help move her.  

"I'll be right back," he said to Hermione and her parents as he rose to help Remus manuever the wheeled bed.  

"You want to hook me up with some of that Skele-Gro yet, Har?" Tonks asked as he swung the foot of the bed around.  

"You're not ready, Tonks," Remus said exasperatedly.  

As soon as they cleared the doorway from the drawing room to the hallway, Tonks said, "Well, Harry, I do not envy you.  But—you can thank me later."

"Why?"

She grinned and winked at him. "Because I slipped a Calming Draught into Mister Granger's wine glass."

Harry gaped at her.  "_Tonks_!" he said in a low whisper.  

"How could you not have knocked the glass over, is what I'm wondering," Remus said wryly as he pushed the bed into her room.  

"I know!" Tonks said laughing.  "I was surprised myself!  But, well, I had to help our dear Harry."

Harry just shook his head.  "I can't believe you did that!"  He grinned then and said, "Thank you."

"No problem," Tonks said.  "I gave him enough to last him the night.  In fact, I think we can arrange for Dobby and Winky to make sure it gets into his food regularly if it comes to it.  Believe it or not, it's fairly common to have to do when hanging out with muggles.  I know when we used to visit my dad's family it was common to have to slip them a Calming Draught.  It's just that our world is very different.  We don't take things as seriously like they do sometimes.  Look at me—having the bones in my legs shattered and then removed would be a very serious thing if I were a muggle.  But for us, it's just wait a few days—"

"—week," Remus interjected.

"And it's good as new," Tonks said, glaring at Remus.  "I could see they thought Quidditch sounded like some brutal game and it is really.  But getting hurt—breaking an arm or whatnot just isn't as critical an injury as it is in their world.  It's difficult to take in all the things that we do and regard as everyday stuff when, to a muggle, they would be very dangerous."

"Hermione hasn't told them a whole lot about what's been going on with the war," Harry said.  "She hasn't even told them about their house being destroyed."

Remus grimaced and asked, "She's got to tell them.  I'm a bit surprised McGonagall didn't tell them but I suppose she might not have had the time or thought Hermione would rather tell them."

Harry shook his head ruefully.  "I don't know but I'm hoping that doesn't come up just now."

"Good luck!" Tonks called out as her mother entered her room and Harry left.  

The few steps it took to walk from Tonks' room to the drawing room seemed like a mile but Harry forced himself.   _Gryffindor's for the brave_, he reminded himself.  

Hermione was carrying a small low table over to the sofas by the fireplace when Harry walked in.  "Oh, Harry, can you grab the tea tray from the table and bring it over?" she asked.  

Harry complied and, as he carried the tray over, he saw her parents had already seated themselves on one of the sofas.  Hermione was standing nervously beside the small table she had just set down.  As he set the tray upon the table, she immediately poured two cups for her parents.  As soon as Harry sat upon the opposite facing sofa, she handed him two cups and sat beside him, taking one cup for herself.    

Harry noted Mister Granger seemed intently focused upon his tea and that Mrs. Granger was merely watching Hermione and him.  Hermione was nervously arranging a napkin over her knee and balancing her cup and saucer upon it. 

"Philip?" Mrs. Granger said, turning to her husband.  He looked up from his tea, inquiringly to his wife.  "You've been very quiet most of dinner, Philip.  Didn't you have questions for Harry?"  She turned to Harry and apologized, saying, "I'm sorry.  I think he's either overtired and just sulking after I said he was rude or he drank a bit too much wine."  

"Mother, why don't you just ask your questions," Hermione said shortly.  "I'd prefer your leading this interrogation rather then riling up dad again."

Mrs. Granger frowned a moment at her daughter and then, after noticing that her husband was back to staring into his teacup, asked Harry, "Well, I suppose I'm just curious to get to know my daughter's boyfriend.  We hardly ever get to see her as you know.  This world has completely absorbed her so that even when she was at home, all she would talk about was Hogwarts this and Hogwarts that."

"Yes, I imagine that's difficult for you at times," Harry said politely.

Mrs. Granger smiled sadly and looked at her daughter.  "Yes, we miss her very much.  It's even more difficult to see her so rarely and every time we do see her, she seems to have grown up so very much since the last time.  It seems like it was just yesterday when our little girl was selected to go off and learn to use this special gift she had.  She tells me you also grew up in our world, is this correct?"

"Yes, I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle.  They're muggles.  I never knew I was a wizard until I got my Hogwarts letter."

"And what do they think of all this?"

"Er, well they're certainly supportive of me going away to Hogwarts," Harry said honestly as Hermione snorted.  

"Your parents were both—"  Mrs. Granger waved her hand around.

"A witch and wizard?" Hermione asked exasperated.  "Yes Mum, I already told you that."

Mrs. Granger frowned at Hermione and shot a concerned look at her husband.  "So, Harry, you've been friends with Hermione for a few years now, yes?"

"Oh yes, since we were eleven.  Best friends really."

Mrs. Granger smiled genuinely at this and Harry felt a little knot of unease loosen.  "She's told us you two began to date this summer.  How did that come about?  The change from best friend to dating, I mean?"

"Oh, er, I guess," Harry looked at Hermione.  "I guess it just sort of happened."  He paused a moment and remembered the night, in this very room, when they'd first kissed.  _Explain…you want them to approve of you, _he reminded himself.  "This summer was one of the first times we'd ever spent time together with just the two of us.  Usually our friend Ron was always around.  When I'd arrived here to Headquarters, I was still mourning Sirius quite a bit and I guess, well, I guess Hermione helped me work through some of that and we just grew closer."  

Hermione reached out and grasped Harry's hand that was on his thigh.  He clutched back at hers and smiled at the calm that flowed between them even though he suspected Hermione was even more nervous than he was.    

Mrs. Granger, still wearing her polite smile, nodded and looked over at her husband.  "Philip?" she asked.  Harry saw that Mr. Granger seemed to be nodding off, his head lolling forward and his chest rising and falling rhythmically.  Mrs. Granger looked back at Harry and Hermione.  "He's obviously overtired.  I suppose that explains why he was so irritable earlier.  I do hope you'll forgive him, Harry.  We've both been dreadfully homesick and we thought that when Minerva was picking us up, that we'd be going home.  But she said we had to come here and that everything would be explained.  He's been a bit testy all day."

"That and he's overprotective and thinks he gets approval and veto power over my life," Hermione said bitterly, glaring at her father.  

"Hermione," her mother said disapprovingly.  "You must admit it was a bit of a shock to realize our baby girl is—"

"I'm not your _baby_, Mother," Hermione said stiffly.  "I am an adult here and you'll only push me away if you insist on sticking your nose in where it doesn't need to be."  

Harry squeezed her hand in an effort to support her as much to calm her down.  Her outbursts were making him feel like they were all walking across thin ice.  Hermione squeezed back then stood up abruptly and set her cup of untouched tea down.  She took the tilting cup from her father's hand, then drew her wand and said, "_Mobilicorpus_."  Her father's sleeping form lifted then, making her mother give a small noise of alarm.  "I'm taking him to his room.  You talk about me while I'm gone," Hermione said acidly to her mother.

Harry watched as Hermione floated her father out of the drawing room.  The knot in his stomach was constricting again.  He heard Mrs. Granger give a defeated sigh.  

"Do you think it would best if we left, Harry?" she asked quietly.  

"What? No.  Definitely not."  Thoughts of the current events in the muggle world made the idea of Hermione's parents leaving Grimmauld Place now seem like a very bad idea.  He knew Hermione had been missing her parents not just a few days ago.  He couldn't even understand the animosity she currently seemed to hold towards her parents.  "No, I know she was missing both of you more than once since the holidays have been drawing near.  You should stay here."

"Do you think it's us being here in your world that has her resenting us like this?"

Harry thought about it a few moments and then shrugged.  He didn't know.  "She's very nervous since this afternoon," he said.  "I…I don't know why."

"_We_ are nervous, Harry," Mrs. Granger said.  "She won't answer any of our questions straight out.  She's fiercely refused to tolerate any questions about her 'private life' as she calls it—meaning when we've asked about you and her together.  She won't tell us why we can't go home now that we're back in the country and we don't understand why everyone around the table seemed uncomfortable with answering our questions about this house we're staying in.  Please, Harry," she said, leaning forward and setting aside her teacup.  "Please tell me what's going on and if we should be concerned?  We were told…before we left this summer…we were told that your world might be going to war."

Harry felt distinctly put on the spot.  Should they be concerned?  He was wanted dead by Voldemort and Hermione was pretty surely known to be the person most important to him.  She was certainly a target herself.  But was there anything they could do?  They couldn't take her and run—magic could easily traverse oceans and continents.  Could they just hide?  They could but Hermione wouldn't.  She would never run and hide like a coward.  He had to say something. He looked up and leaned forward, setting aside his own teacup.  He noticed that Mrs. Granger had the same light brown eyes and heart shaped mouth that Hermione had.

"Honestly?" he said.  Mrs. Granger nodded.  "We are at war.  Open war.   You're at the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix—we're the lead of the resistance to this war brought on by Voldemort.  I know this must sound…_incredible_ to you."

"It certainly doesn't sound safe!" Mrs. Granger said, her voice rising shrilly, sounding an awful lot like Hermione when she got upset.  

"You _are_ safe here," Harry said firmly.  "We're all safe here."

"What about at school?  And how can you know you're safe?"

"Hogwarts is the safest place in all the Wizarding world," Harry said resolutely.  "This house is safe because of all the protections that have been put on it."

"We were told we should leave the country for a while because we wouldn't be safe in our own home—we love to travel and never imagined how homesick we'd get.  If she's safe here or Hogwarts, why do _we_ have to worry?  Why can't we go home?"

Harry did not want to be the one to tell Mrs. Granger that their house had been destroyed.    He was saved from answering though when Hermione walked back into the room quietly and said, "Mum, the house was destroyed.  There's nothing there."  Hermione stood and watched her mother's reaction.  "If you and Dad would have been there this summer when it was attacked, you'd both be dead," Hermione said in a whisper as she sat down beside her mother.  

Harry had to look away or feel like he was intruding as he watched Hermione and her mother embrace and both cry tears.  He had half a mind to Disapparate and leave them there to work this out alone.  He deeply suspected her parents; her mother at least, wasn't so much intending to interrogate him and his relationship with Hermione as much as she wanted to know what was going on in her daughter's life.  He recalled Remus telling him just last night, that you can't understand what you don't know.  It seemed to Harry that Hermione just wasn't sure how to let her parents know what they needed to understand.  

"Mum," Hermione said, sniffling.  "Look, I know… I heard you talking before I came in.  I…listen, I miss you and Dad--really I do.  I miss talking to you like we used to and telling you everything."

"I do, too, Hermione," her mum said, tearing up again.  "Why won't you tell me about what's going on?  It only makes me worry more."

"Oh, Mum, it's not that I don't want you to know what's going on.  I just don't _want_ you to worry.  I don't want you to get all worked up and go over these things that you have no control over."

"Like you?"

Hermione laughed through her waning tears.  "Yeah, like me.  I'm _seventeen_, Mum.  I know where I need to be in my life and where I want to go.  It's not up for discussion, debate or a deciding vote upon mutual consensus.  It's _my_ life."  After a few moments, Hermione said, "If I promise to tell you everything about what is going on, all about our world and this war, why I need you and Dad to remain safe somewhere so I don't worry about you, then…then you need to promise me that you'll respect my decisions.  You don't need to agree with them or even understand them but you can't second-guess these decisions and me constantly."

Harry watched Mrs. Granger look down her nose at her daughter intently.  Hermione stared back defiantly and he thought they might be about to argue again.  Instead, they both burst out laughing.  He had no idea what that was about.  

Harry sat there, debating several times whether he could just slip out, while Hermione told her mother nearly everything.  She told her mother who Voldemort was and about his Death Eaters.  She told him how she, Harry and Ron had helped stop Voldemort from getting the Sorcerer's Stone in their first year and how Harry had been used to help resurrect Voldemort at the end of the Triwizard Tournament.  She told her mother how last year, Voldemort tried to use an obscure form of magic to lure Harry to their Ministry to get a prophecy that made Voldemort want to kill Harry in the first place.  She told her mother about Sirius and how he was known to be a convicted mass murdered but whom she and Harry helped save only to be killed last year.  She told her mother about her and Harry being part of the Order and that the Order was dedicated to bringing down Voldemort.  She told her mother about the things they called Dementors and how these creatures were now being allowed to feed upon and murder muggles of all sorts across the country.  She told her mother about other families that had been attacked and that for a muggle, there simply was no defense to be had against a wizard with no compunction for taking human life.  

Mrs. Granger listened through it all in relative silence until Hermione had talked herself hoarse.  She had flitted amongst varied expressions throughout Hermione's storytelling.  She often looked over at Harry when Hermione would mention him and he'd just nod to confirm something, making her look of shocked disbelief often fade into horror, sadness or anger.  A couple of times, Harry thought Mrs. Granger looked about ready to bundle Hermione up and run fast and far away from this awful world Hermione was describing. 

Eventually, Hermione summed it all up by saying, "Mum, I wouldn't leave Harry to face this all alone or without me for anything in the world—_anything_.  Even if I didn't feel this way, I've got a responsibility to help in this war.  I can make a difference and I _will_."  Crookshanks, who had arrived halfway through and settled upon Hermione's lap, now jumped off and onto the floor to exchanged Hermione's lap for a spot in front of the fire.  

"Well," Mrs. Granger said after everything.  "I'm not so sure I want to be the one to tell your father all of this."  Hermione's eyes went wide.  "In fact, maybe I'll just tell him only what I think he needs to know.  What do you think?"  

Hermione nodded immediately and her mother laughed.  "All right.  He should be properly ashamed now about drinking too much wine and passing out."  She looked at Harry and said, "Hopefully a night of rest will do his disposition wonders."  She looked back at Hermione.  "Will you walk me to our room?  I feel like I keep getting turned around in this house."  They rose and Mrs. Granger bid Harry a good night.  

Sitting there alone in the drawing room, watching Crookshanks sprawled out like a ginger rug upon the hearthstone, Harry wondered just how well Mr. Granger's disposition would improve come morning.  He couldn't help but hope Tonks had several doses of Calming Draught handy if they came to be needed.  A few minutes later, Hermione came back into the room and stood in front of Harry, breaking into his wandering thoughts.  

"You coming upstairs?" she asked, pushing his fringe back from his forehead with her hand and then running it through his hair.  

"Sit with me for a while," he said, drawing her in beside him.  Hermione curled one leg beneath her and looped her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.  They sat there like that for a while until Harry asked, "You think your mum will be okay with everything you told her?"

Hermione nodded.  "She will.  If she knows I'm dead set on something, then she knows there's not point in arguing.  I just wish I didn't have to tell her because I know she'll worry."  

"I suspect she'd worry if you hadn't told her."

"I know," Hermione said with a sigh.  "But I just hope she'll understand now."  Hermione yawned then, a great, stretching and gasping yawn and laughed.  "I should have taken a nap today like you did.  Come on," she said standing and pulling Harry up.  "Let's go upstairs."

As they walked, hand in hand, Harry asked, "Are you ever going to yell at me or are you just going to forget and let me off easy?"

Hermione smirked at him.  "It hardly seems important right now.  I think maybe you having to put up with my dad will be punishment enough for you to endure right now."

"Does that mean I shouldn't have gotten you all kinds of tokens of apology?" Harry asked as he followed her up the stairs.  

"You didn't," Hermione laughed.  

"I did."  

"You mean like Christmas gifts?" she asked as they reached the landing to the third floor.  

"Nope, completely different and separate."

"Where are these tokens of apology?" she asked curiously as they neared the door to her room.  

Harry stopped and nodded towards her door, saying, "Open it."

Hermione looked at him gaugingly as a smile played on her lips.  She turned, twisted the doorknob, pushed the door open, and then gasped.  Harry smelled the roses before he saw them over her shoulder; vases of red and white roses were set upon every bare surface and dozens floated in the air amongst flickering candles and rose petals.  It looked stunningly beautiful even to Harry and he vowed he'd kiss Dobby the next time he saw the little elf.  

"Oh, Harry," Hermione breathed stepping tentatively into the enchanting room.  "I can't believe you…Dobby?"  Harry nodded.  "Wow…"  She stepped up to one hovering vase and stood up on tiptoe to cup one rose bloom and bring it to her nose; inhaling deeply.  She turned then to Harry, looking delighted and said, "Oh, Harry, we have to stay in here tonight. This is simply splendid!"

"We?"

"Yes _we_," Hermione said.  She pouted then and explained, "I slept terribly last night trying to stay mad at you."

"But…er…your parents are just…"

"Muggles who can't use magic and undo a Locking Charm," Hermione said pointedly. 

Harry wasn't about to argue with this proposition and he further reasoned that if he locked the door to his room from the inside and Apparated back to her room, then if anyone came knocking in the morning, he could just Disapparate back to his room with no one the wiser.  

They awoke on their own the next morning to the sweet fragrance of roses.  Harry was fairly certain as Hermione roused him from sleep with kisses just below one ear that he was completely forgiven and she wasn't holding any grudges.  Only a need for the toilet forced him to leave her room and face the day.  

However, the day was not meant to be a smooth one.  It started with Hermione stopping in Tonks' room and shrieking, "Oh no!" when she heard Tonks had used a Calming Draught on her father.  Apparently Hermione, at the same time that Tonks was distracting Mr. Granger by pouring him a glass of wine laced with the draught, had cast a Relaxing Charm on him.  Hermione then rushed into her parents' room and, sure enough, found her mother unable to rouse her father who was groggy and slurring incoherently at best.  

Hermione spent all morning with Harry scouring the library for a book to tell the effects of mixing that particular charm and that particular potion.  Remus tried to reach several people on the Floo for answers as to how much danger Mr. Granger might be in.  He couldn't get Dumbledore on the Floo but was able to get Mrs. Weasley.  Unfortunately though, she had nothing in any of her household guides.  

All this time, Tonks kept apologizing profusely as her mother sat in a rocking chair in her room, working on needlepoint.  Mrs. Granger looked positively frantic and Hermione had her helping sort through books in the library.  

Finally, Remus got a hold of a friend at St. Mungo's and found out that when combined, that potion and charm would make for an extremely powerful sedative that was estimated to last about a day or two.  Unfortunately though, this estimate was for a witch or wizard hit with the combination and they weren't sure if a muggle would be more severely affected.  Either way, they all breathed a sigh of relief that Mr. Granger would not be permanently snoring and drooling on himself.  

In fact, Mrs. Granger found the incident rather funny after she was done worrying about it.  She found it very ironic that her husband's uppity temper and overprotective attitude from the previous night would result in him being confined to a bed for the next few days.  "Might teach him a lesson in manners," she said.  

By the late afternoon, the fact that it was Christmas Eve had everyone in high spirits.  Remus, Hermione, Tonks and Harry had agreed to not discuss anything to do with the Order since it was a holiday.  They spent the afternoon and evening in the drawing room where Tonks, Hermione and their mothers decorated Christmas cookies that Winky had made while Remus and Harry played chess and watched as Tonks made a habit of 'messing' up cookies and then eating the evidence.  

Christmas morning, Mister Granger was no better than the day before and remained snoozing in bed, oblivious to the rest of the world.  The rest of the house, Harry and Hermione even insisted Dobby and Winky join them, gathered in the drawing room for Christmas breakfast and to open gifts.  

Tonks claimed all she wanted for Christmas was to take the Skele-Gro and get her bones back. "I want legs!" she whinged.   Remus even had to agree that her shins were now no longer inflamed.  But Harry convinced Tonks that the process of regrowing bones was not pleasant and he strongly recommended that she wait until after enjoying her Christmas morning to take the potion.  Tonks was satisfied with this because it would still allow her to be properly equipped with all her bones and possibly walking by the Celebration in two days.  

Over breakfast, Mrs. Granger asked what this Celebration was.  As she and Mr. Granger would obviously still be here at the house, Hermione assured her mother that they would get to see one first hand.   Tonks had been to three other Celebrations in her life and told them all in great detail about each.  

After breakfast, they moved to opening presents where Hermione fretted several times about not getting anything for her parents.  She'd been fretting about this fact ever since the night before to Harry and he knew she felt very bad about it.  In fact, Harry had gotten out of bed long after Hermione had fallen asleep and searched to find something he could put together for the Grangers.  It was this gift he'd put together and snuck under the tree himself that he paused to watch Dobby hand out to Mrs. Granger.  Harry set aside his half-unwrapped, lumpy package that he was sure contained a Weasley jumper and nudged Hermione to watch as her mum took the small, flat box wrapped in gold tissue paper.  

"Hermione, I thought you didn't get us anything?" Mrs. Granger said as she turned over the package carefully.  

"I didn't," Hermione said, looking questioningly at Harry.  

Harry sighed and said, "I found something that you could give your parents.  I'm almost positive this will work."

"When did you do this?" Hermione asked as her mother began to unwrap the paper.  

"Last night," Harry said.  Hermione looked at him and he explained, "Long after everyone went to sleep.  I couldn't sleep and needed something to do.  I knew it was bothering you."  Truth was, he had been awoken by two sharp, stabbing pains in his scar and he choose to remain awake where he could consciously defend his mind from attack rather than risk falling asleep again.    He'd searched his room and trunk for something he could use as a gift to the Grangers.

"What is it, Mum?" Hermione asked as the top of the box was lifted.  

Mrs. Granger, who as Harry had gotten to know her, he realized he liked her very much, looked bewildered as she shifted aside the tissue paper inside the box.  "I'm not sure," she said.  "It looks like…a mirror?"

Hermione leaned over, looked into the box and gasped.  "Harry!  Is that--?"  He nodded.  "But you--?"

"I know you have the other mirror," Harry said.  He had given Mrs. Granger the two-way mirror that Sirius had given him.  "We've never used the mirrors and I thought you might like a way to keep in touch with each other no matter where you are."

"What do you mean?" Mrs. Granger inquired, lifting the small, square mirror.  

"It's a two-way mirror," Hermione explained.  "It will allow one person to speak directly with another—oh!" she turned and looked at Harry with her hand to her mouth.  "Harry," she shook her head.  "I'm not so sure—"

Harry had anticipated what she was about to say and Summoned a book from a side table to give to Hermione.  "Check the marked page," he said.  

After he thought about how the Grangers and Hermione could use the two-way mirrors to keep in touch, he wondered if the Grangers, as muggles, could even use the mirror.  The mirrors were obviously enchanted and he suspected they got some of their magical energy from the magical person who was using them.  He'd searched the library then for hours, searching for a book on some spell that might make something such as these mirrors, usable for a non-magical person.  He'd found a potion that could be made which, although complex and time-consuming, could be used to link both mirrors to the one magical person.  He knew if anyone could prepare the potion, it would be Hermione.  And also, because she'd be making the potion, she would be giving her parents something from herself.  

Hermione looked up from the marked page in the book where it described the potion.  "Harry…are you sure you want to give up this mirror?"

"I'm sure," he said.  "We never use it.  Sirius said he and my dad used to use them to talk during separate detentions.  I don't get detentions very often and neither do you.  You'll use it though to speak with your parents.  I'm _positive_."

Mrs. Granger beamed at Harry as Hermione went on in detail to explain to her mother how the mirror would work and what Hermione would have to brew to make it work for them.  Harry felt a hand upon his shoulder and looked up to see Remus smile at him.  "That was very thoughtful of you, Harry," he said with a wink.  "And when we're done here, you should Floo the Burrow.  Molly said she'd love to see you sometime today when I spoke with her yesterday.  She'll probably also want an update on Mister Granger."

Harry nodded.  He had already felt odd a few times since this was the first Christmas since he'd started at Hogwarts where he hadn't been woke by Ron demanding to open presents.  He definitely needed to Floo the Burrow.  

Harry had received his usual jumper and tin of fudge from Mrs. Weasley, an extra large bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans from a Ron, and a self-exploding set of Christmas Crackers from Fred and George, which burst apart as soon as Harry had opened the box.  The crackers erupted into red, gold and green confetti and blasted the sound of the twins singing horribly out of tune Christmas carols.  

In fact, nearly everyone at Grimmauld place had received a set of these crackers from the twins and Hermione quickly found out that casting a Silencing Charm on them, only made the voices begin to screech their so-called singing.  Tonks said this was about how she sang and her mother seemed to absolutely adore the mangled carols.  

Andromeda Tonks was the most animated that Harry had ever seen her this Christmas morning.  Thus far she'd always seemed very aloof and slightly off kilter.  Her comments were often not quite appropriate although it was only very rarely that she'd even pipe up with anything to say.  Remus had told Harry that Andy had not always been like this and that; in fact, she'd been almost as talkative as her daughter before the attack at Halloween.  

While Dobby was still bursting into tears and thanking Harry for the dozen or so odd and unmatched socks he'd been given, Tonks asked, "Where do you find unmatched socks, Harry?"  He'd laughed and confided that he didn't; he'd bought several pairs and split them up, giving one of each pair to Dobby and the others to Mad-Eye Moody who only had one foot anyway. 

After gifts were finally done, Harry and Hermione helped Dobby escort an overly emotional Winky downstairs.  Apparently, she'd never gotten gifts before and the entire affair was extremely overwhelming for her.  Hermione insisted that Winky, as it was a holiday, should have the rest of the day off.  She gave Dobby strict instructions to make sure Winky relaxed and took the day off.   Harry then went down to the kitchen to call the Burrow.  

As soon as Harry's head popped into the fire in the Burrow, he saw the kitchen was filled with jabbering Weasleys, all seated around the table, laughing and eating amidst twinkling and shimmering wrapping paper and discarded ribbons and bows.    The smell of bread and holiday baking was mouth-watering.  

"Harry!" the twins chorused as they were the first to see his head in the fire and rushed towards him.    

"Want us to come over and sing for you?" Fred asked merrily.

George then began to belt out a very upbeat version of 'Silent Night'.  

"George!" Mrs. Weasley shouted from somewhere in the kitchen.  "If you don't stop that I'll _make_ you have a silent night!"

"Hey, Harry," Ron said, shoving Fred out of the way who was very poorly trying to play a piccolo.  "Thanks for the Broomstick Servicing Kit, mate.  Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas, Ron," Harry said.  "How's it going?"

Ron grinned and then gave Harry a dark look before checking once over his shoulder and then leaning forward, saying, "Not bad but guess who showed up this morning about an hour ago?"

"Percy!" Fred whispered with his eyes wide and nodding.  

"And that's not all," Ron said hurriedly.  

"He's _married_!" Fred and Ron both said together with shared looks of disbelief and horror.  

"Married?" Harry said.  He must have heard wrong.  That could not be correct.  Who, in their right mind, would ever marry Percy?  "To who?"

"Hiya, Harry," Ginny said, kneeling down beside Ron.  "Did you guys tell him the news yet?" she asked Fred and Ron.  She turned back to Harry and rushed out in a low voice, "Percy showed up with Penelope Clearwater this morning—well, Weasley now.  _They're married_!"

Harry was dumbfounded.  

Ron, Fred and Ginny all seemed amused by Harry's shock and just when Harry thought it was finally sinking in, Ron smirked and said, "And that's not even the biggest news, Harry."

"What's bigger than that?" Harry asked, wide-eyed.

"Oh, Harry!  Hello and happy Christmas!" Mr. Weasley called, bending over Ron and Fred's shoulders.  "The stereo is _marvellous_!  I've not got it to work quite yet as I decided to take it apart first and see how it's all put together.  But I can't wait to be able to get muggle radio—music and news—oh, thank you very much!"

"No-no problem, Mr. Weasley," Harry said, still stunned about Percy.   

"Yes, yes.  Wonderful!  How's Mr. Granger? Molly said there was a bit of a problem with a Calming Draught and Relaxing Charm being combined."

"Oh, he's…doing better.  He should be fine in a few days," Harry said, not quite able to withhold a grimace.  "He's still out of it."  _Luckily_, he added to himself.  

"The Grangers are there?" Fred asked with a wicked smirk on his face.  "Bet that cramps your plans with Hermione."

"Fred!" Mr. Weasley admonished with a sharp squeeze of his son's shoulder.  

Bill and then Charlie peaked around their father and each wished Harry a happy Christmas.  

"We'll be seeing you on Saturday," Bill said.  "Would you think it'd be all right for me to bring Fleur?  She's up on everything and only needs someone to—you know."  He waved his hands around, implying he couldn't say something out loud.

Harry knew she'd have to get someone to reveal the secret to her about Grimmauld Place and nodded, saying, "Yeah, sure.  Actually, I think Remus was wondering if you would be able to escort Luna since she lives near you?  Moody's already getting Neville, I know on Saturday morning.  I'll see to it when I get back."  Mr. Weasley nodded.  

"Those invitation scrolls were wicked, Harry!" George said, stuffing his head between Ron and Ginny's.  "Fred and I couldn't even get the ink to reveal itself on any of them other than the one addressed to us.  How'd you do that?"

Harry smirked.  "Like I'm going to tell you after we had to endure your horrid singing all morning?"  

Fred just grinned.  "Charlie said it sounded worse than a Mermaid stranded on dry land!"

"What's all the fuss over here?" Mrs. Weasley's voice could be heard.  "Oh, Harry, dear!" she called as soon as she spied Harry's head the kitchen fireplace.  "Happy Christmas dear!" She looked like she'd been crying tears of joy and she couldn't stop smiling.  "Budge out of the way, all you," she said to her children.  "Harry—everyone's invited over here for Christmas dinner, dear.  Remus, Hermione, yourself, the Grangers—you should all come over.  We've got our _whole_ family here!"

"Well, I'm not so sure that's possible," Harry said.  "We've got—" he knew he shouldn't say Tonks was there recovering from a curse.  "—We've got Mister Granger who isn't very mobile right now.  There are few other people here as well.  We've also got to get started on preparations for Saturday.  We've been a bit distracted what with everything."

"Oh," her face fell.  "Well, we've got _every_one here—did you hear our wonderful news?" she asked, her face lighting up again.  "_Our first one to marry_!"  Her face went stern and she said, "I would've liked a wedding, but," she beamed again and her eyes filled with tears.  "_Our Percy_—he's just brought Penelope over with the news!  You know who Penelope is, don't you?  Penelope Clearwater?  Oh—" she laughed, "--_Weasley_ now, of course!"  She began to sob and Mr. Weasley patted her on the shoulder and drew her away from the fire.  

Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Bill and Charlie were all left facing the fire and Harry saw nearly each of them roll their eyes at their mother.  

"What?" Harry asked.  "What is it?"

Bill nudged Charlie, jerked a thumb over his shoulder and said, "Keep a look out."  

Ron then whispered, "Percy just waltzed back in here and acted like he never left.  He brought Penelope with him and his way of _introducing_ her was to say, 'You all know Penelope—my wife'.  Can you believe that!"  All the red Weasley heads nodded in agreement.  

George then turned to Ron and Ginny and asked, "Did you tell him that she's pregnant?"

"WHAT?" Harry shouted.  "Nu-uh—you guys are pulling my leg."  This was obviously a joke. They'd had Harry going for a moment.

Fred and George looked serious, though.  _But they could lie_.  Ron—Ron and Ginny both looked serious.  _No—this couldn't be true_.  Bill was serious, too.  And not only were they just not laughing as if to pull a joke on Harry, they were all scowling.  _Maybe this isn't a joke_.  

"You've got to be kidding," Harry deadpanned.  All the Weasley heads shook.  Harry's jaw dropped.  He was speechless.  

"What's all the clamour over here?" came a strident and crisp voice from the Burrow.  Everyone facing Harry either grimaced or scowled at the sound of their brother Percy.  Soon, the primly cut red hair of Percy could be seen peering around Charlie's shoulder.  "Harry!  Dear boy—how _good_ to see you!  Christmas tidings to you old chap!"  He grinned in a very un-Percy-like way (Harry didn't know if he'd ever seen anyone wearing such a creepy smile) and clapped his hands together as if genuinely pleased to see Harry.  The rest of the Weasleys gathered round the fire all gaped at Percy.  

"Excuse me," Ron said coldly.  "Did I miss the part where you apologized to Harry for being a nasty ass to him for a year?"

"Yeah!" Fred said heatedly.  "Who do you think you are, talking to Harry?"

"He's not your friend and you've never been his!" George said pointing a finger at Percy.  

"Now, now," Percy laughed, not taking any of the offense that was intended by those remarks.  "Harry and I have talked since then.  Perhaps he just doesn't tell you each and every little detail of his busy life?"  He faced the fire again. "Harry—it _is_ good to see you.  Mother says she's invited you over for tea this afternoon.  I do hope you'll be attending?" 

Harry didn't trust Percy as far as he could banish him.  "Er, no, actually.  I've got company here and we really can't all leave."

"Oh?" Percy said, still smiling cheerily.  "Where is here?  I do really need to see you, Harry.  Why—I've got a most _wonderful_ gift for you!  You're sure you can't come over here for tea?  Mother will be dreadfully disappointed."

"No, I'm sure Percy," Harry said, frowning.

"Oh."  Percy's smile faltered.  "But I really _do_ have something for you, Harry."

"What would you have for Harry?" Ron demanded angrily.  

Percy looked between Ron and Harry and said, "Well, I was hoping it could be a surprise and that I could present it to him when he's around family."  

George sneered and parroted Percy's words.  "You prat—why don't you just give it to us and _we'll_ give it to Harry so he can be around _family_ and not some pompous Ministry-puppet prat!"

"George, I do believe that was uncalled for," Percy said coolly, looking down his nose at his younger brother.  

"I don't!" Ron said, turning a darker shade of red every minute.  "What would _you_ ever have for Harry unless it's your _apology_ to him?!"

Percy puffed himself up and said, "If you all insist to know, the Minister had decreed that Harry be bestowed with the honourable title of Order of Merlin, Third Class."  Percy watched the shock on his brothers and Ginny's faces with satisfaction.  "That's right, Harry," he said.  "You almost nicked it with the luck it took you to take on those Death Eaters in June long enough for help to arrive.  But now, the Committee on Experimental Charms has nominated your name for the honour related to your publication on the theoretical foundation of emotions behind the Patronus Charm.  The Minister approved the title to be bestowed to you just before he left on holiday.  I've been hoping to present it you on Christmas."

The only sound was one of the twins guffawing.  

"I don't want it," Harry said shortly.  

"Harry," Percy said frowning.  "You don't know what you're saying.  This is an _Order of Merlin_!"  Harry looked around and everyone's face was indeed impressed; scowling still at Percy perhaps but impressed nonetheless. 

"I—I hardly think I deserve—"

Percy laughed loudly.  "Oh!  That's our Harry!  Always modest, you are!  Now, if you're sure you can't make it over here—I'll come to you.  Where are you?  You're not with your relatives in Surrey, are you?  I can be there in a trice."

"He's not telling _you_ where he's at!" Ron said incredulously.  "Honestly!  You think Harry would trust you?  Forget it Percy!"

Harry had no intention of telling Percy where he was at and even if he did, the Fidelius Charm would have prevented Percy from finding Grimmauld Place.  Not that he was welcome here in any way.  

"Er, Percy?  I really don't think that's going to happen.  Perhaps we can arrange something when I'm back at Hogwarts in a few weeks.  Er—guys?  My knees are killing me here and I'm sweating bullets.  Floo us if you need anything?"

"Sure, Harry," Ron said, glaring at Percy smugly.  "We'll all—well, _most_ of us—will see you soon."

"Happy Christmas!" several voices rang out.      

Harry pulled his dizzy head back through the fireplace and wiped his brow as the cool air of the basement kitchen hit his face.  He felt dizzy with all the news and headed straight back upstairs to tell the others.  

"You're never going to believe all the news from the Burrow," Harry said as he walked back into the drawing room.  

"Why's that?" Hermione asked.  She was seated on the floor, both her and her mother cross-legged and scratching Fang's enormous head.  "Are they all coming to the Celebration?  Is Charlie back from Romania?"

Harry just shook his head as walked over past Remus and Tonks who were playing with a new chess set.  "Yes, Charlie's there but that's not the news.  Guess who else was there?"

Hermione frowned and then stopped, dropped her hands into her lap and shouted, "Not_—no._" Harry nodded.  "No way!" she said.  

Harry laughed and said, "I know, that's what I said.  And that's not all either!"  He sunk heavily into an armchair just beside Andy who was murmuring sweet-nothings to Crookshanks as he curled up upon her lap.  As she scratched behind his ears, she cooed, "You're such a _good_ little kitty now, aren't you?  Yes, you are, yes you are!"

"Who are you talking about?  What's this news, Harry?" Remus asked.    

"Oh—they're all up in arms over there.  Seems Percy showed up this morning—"

"Percy!?" Remus exclaimed.

Tonks gaped at Harry and her mother looked up, saying, "Oh, my."

"—With Penelope Clearwater--"

"What?" Hermione asked, her jaw dropping.  

"Who?" Remus, Tonks and her mother chorused.

"—his _wife_—"

"_What_?!" Tonks, Remus and Hermione all said at once.  

"—and—" Harry grinned.  "She's _pregnant_."

Silence met this announcement until Andy murmured, "Oh, my, me too, me too."  

Harry just stared at her, bewildered by her odd behavior, until Tonks reached over, wadded up a ball of wrapping paper and chucked it at him.  "You prat!  You had me going there for a second!  As if that git could figure out how to father a child!"

"I'm serious!" Harry insisted.  "I saw him."

"Did you see Penelope?" Hermione asked, frowning.  

"No," Harry said.  "But—that _still_ isn't all the news from the Burrow." 

"So help me Merlin, Harry," Tonks said waving her wand at him.  "What _else_ could there be?"

Harry waved Tonks' wand out of his face.  "Percy claims he wants to give me an Order of Merlin, Third Class," he said glumly.  "He even wanted me to go over there today to receive it but I said I couldn't because we have company here.  _Then_ he wanted to know where I was and come here to present it to me."

Hermione gaped at him for a moment; opening and closing her mouth like a fish out of water.  "_Why_?" she asked.  "I mean—not that you wouldn't deserve it—but _why_?  What for?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  "For my work on the Patronus Charm.  He said the Committee on Experimental Charms or something nominated me."  Harry wasn't exactly sure how he knew but something just told him there was more to this sudden award than the Ministry wanting to honour a worthy discovery.  

"He…  But…"  Hermione kept beginning to speak but closed her mouth each time.  "I don't understand.  Aren't award ceremonies public events usually?"

"Usually," Tonks said, looking very confused.  "Well, well… I'm…I'm speechless!" she announced throwing her hands up in the air.  "If that git can get married then why in the hell am I still single?"

"Oh, dear, you're lovely," her mother cooed.  Tonks looked flattered until she saw Andy had only been speaking to Crookshanks.  

"So what did you tell him, Harry?" Hermione asked.  

"I said he'd best wait until I was back at Hogwarts and arrange something.  I don't think he was very happy."

"Well, you should be very proud of your achievement," Remus said.  

"Why?  It's probably just some publicity stunt by Fudge and Percy to use me for some reason."

"Harry!" Hermione said looking at him like he had two heads. "You're as worthy as anyone to receive the Order of Merlin!"

Harry looked at her pointedly.  "Hermione, how can anyone take something that's approved by Fudge and presented by Percy as an _honour_?"

Hermione folded her arms and sighed. "I suppose, but still.  The basis of the nomination might very well be sound.  Any other news from the Burrow, Harry?"

"Er, Bill asked if he could bring Fleur to the Celebration.  She'll need something from Professor Dumbledore to get in here.  I believe the Weasleys will be fine with bringing Luna along but she'll also need the secret to get in."  Harry turned to Remus and asked, "You're sure Moody will have everything arranged with Neville?  Oh my, it's less than _two_ days from now—what else do we have to do to get ready?"  

Harry suddenly felt overwhelmed with the looming Celebration.  He'd had so many other things to deal with the past several days and no one had done much to prepare at all.  

"I'll tell you the first thing that needs to be done," Tonks announced from her wheeled bed.  "You hook me up with some of that Skele-Gro, Harrikins and set my bones to grow back so I can dance at this Celebration!"

And that was indeed Harry's next order of business.  He kept warning Tonks that the potion would taste vile and that there would be sharp, splintering pains while her bones regrew but she refused to be anything less than enthusiastic.  After Harry gave her the full dose of Skele-Gro, it was only a mere two hours later when Tonks was begging someone to Stun her to put her out of her misery.  As her whinging sounded nearly as bad as the twins caterwauling they called singing, Harry, Hermione and Remus all fought each other to be the one to shut Tonks up.  

After everyone else had shared Christmas Tea, Mr. Granger woke up and was found blearily lurching down the hall, leaning against the wall for support.  Harry was the one who found him and he could have sworn Mr. Granger was slurring something about plaid elephants dancing the polka.  They tried to let Mr. Granger sit with them in the drawing room to see if it would help him wake up more but he ended up slumped over, drooling atop Crookshanks.  

The rest of the night and all of the next day, everybody in the house helped to clean and prepare for the Celebration.  Well, everyone except for Mister Granger and Tonks.  She'd been revived only long enough to for her to wail and whinge about a minute before Remus Stunned for her second day.  

They'd all decided that the large and vacant practice hall was where they would hold the Celebration.  Together, they cleared out all the various pieces of furniture that Remus had been working on fixing up and moved them to the attic.  Harry and Hermione charmed rags to polish the floor in the hall to a gleaming finish while Mrs. Granger worked with Winky selecting recipes to comprise the menu.  

They tested out whether transfigured objects would hold up better than conjured tables and chairs for the event.  Hermione, despite Harry's protesting that he could conjure something that looked better than what he could transfigure, insisted that transfigured objects would be more stable.  After all, the last thing they wanted was for guests to be seated in a chair at a table that both suddenly disappeared.  As Hermione gathered numerous miscellaneous items to transfigure, Harry muttered, "Most people wouldn't be very happy to suddenly find their chair turned back into a candlestick."  

Hermione glared at him and yanked the candlestick back, saying, "I'll transfigure these.  _You_ stick with the books!"  

By evening, they had the hall gleaming.  Both fireplaces in the hall were cleaned and in working order, bedecked with holiday greens and red and gold ribbons.  There was one long buffet table at one end of the hall and, all along one side of the room, small round tables with seats for dining were arranged.  

"Oh!  You know what we need?" Hermione asked, clapping her hands and looking around at the hall.

"A bath?" Harry suggested hopefully.

"No—the roses!"  Hermione beamed and then proceeded to commission Harry to help her carefully ("No magic!  You might break a vase!") transport all the roses he'd gotten her from her room, into the hall.  They placed a vase on every table and several on each fireplace mantle.  The rest, they scattered about the table for the buffet.  

As he surveyed their work, Harry had to admit, the hall did look splendid.  

"Oh!  You know what else we need?" Hermione asked, peering into the book she was using to describe all about Celebrations.

"You already said that once and it meant more work," Harry pouted as he looked warily at Hermione.  

"Someone needs to get a holly wand.  I'm guessing here that Ollivander has them for loan.  Remus did say Fawkes would give a Phoenix feather, didn't he?  Oh—and what will we put the feather _in_ when you light it?  Oh—we should have thought of this sooner!" she bemoaned.  

"Calm down," Harry said, rubbing Hermione's shoulders.  He'd been the hysterical one almost all morning but now, he was beyond tired and couldn't be bothered to get all worked up.  "I've got a holly wand.  I figured we'd just use mine and we can conjure a metal tray of some sort to light the feather in.  Okay?" 

Hermione turned around and looked up at him.  "What do you mean you have a holly wand?"

Harry smirked and pulled her close as he said in a low voice, "I believe you've seen it before?  Eleven inches long…_supple_…"

"Harry!"  Hermione playfully shoved him away.  "I'm serious!"

"No you're not—you're Hermione," Harry said laughing and pulling her back.  He withdrew his wand from beneath his sleeve and held it up between them.  "Holly, eleven inches, core of Phoenix feather.  Right here and so help me god if you tell me that's some rare combination," he said warningly.  Hermione bit her lip as she looked at his wand.  "Oh, for god's sake—what?" 

Hermione, choosing her words carefully, very slowly said, "Well, it's a very rare wood for a common wand."  She quickly added, "But what I think it's most interesting is that you, The Boy Who Lived, has a wand made from the tree of life."  She smiled sweetly at Harry.

Harry, who'd had enough planning and preparing for tomorrow's Celebration, couldn't argue with that and just raised an eyebrow as he pocketed his wand, looked at Hermione and drew her close again.  He conceded, "Well, I suppose it sure beats having a wand made from the tree of death or some such thing."  

He drew her in for a kiss that lingered and they only broke apart when they heard Mrs. Granger delightedly say, "Oh, Remus was right!  He said if we left the two of you alone, I might finally catch you snogging."  

"Mu-_um_!" Hermione said, stomping her foot and laughing.  

~                                  *     ~          *   ~          *          ~          *          ~          *          

*             *                    *          *                *


	41. Chapter 44 Requiescat In Pacem

Chapter 44. Requiescat En Pacem

"Look!" called Tonks' chipper voice from the drawing room.  "I'm walking!"  

"Look!" Harry said from behind the large silver tray as he turned from the hallway into the room.  "I've got a humongous tray—so don't walk into me!"  

"Oh!  Harry's a house elf today!" Tonks cried as she attempted to clear off the dining table to make room for the tray.   

"What is all that?" Harry asked curiously as he set the laden tray down and watched as Tonks scrambled to sweep parchment scrolls from the table and managing to knock several on the floor.  

"Here, let me," Remus said as he quickly helped her.  

Harry noted the scrolls, at least a dozen or so, all looked like the familiar size of those sent via the Order's cauldrons.  His eyes narrowed as he asked, "Did something happen?  What're all those about?"

"Nothing new," Remus said firmly.  "There's just a bunch of updates from Monday's activities and a few notes about when people plan to arrive."  

"Should I have a look?" Harry asked; but Remus was already shaking his head and tucking the scrolls away into the writing desk.  

Remus had been insisting that Harry concentrate on the Celebration the past few days and just let the Order business wait.  "There's nothing that needs immediate attending to," he said.  "However, I'm starving and that needs to be attended to."

"Me too!" Tonks said, as she pulled up the silver tray cover and narrowly missed clocking Remus in the head with it.  "Oops!  Sorry—been away from food for almost two days; I'm a bit feral."  

Remus wrested the tray cover from Tonks as she made a grab for toast and sausages.  Harry smiled at her enthusiasm and then looked up to see Hermione and her parents walk into the room.  Mr. Granger, still looking a bit unsteady, was grumbling about having to be escorted by Hermione and his wife at either side.  

"Philip," Mrs. Granger laughed.  "You stumbled out on your own just a day ago and Harry had to help you remain upright long enough to get you back to bed!"

Mr. Granger mumbled something incoherent as Harry pulled out a chair for him.   His eyes flicked up to Harry as he braced himself on the chair back before lowering himself to sit. "Thanks," he mumbled.  

"Shwhadimus?" Tonks asked with a mouthful of something.  She swallowed with a gulp, looked up and asked, "Where's mumsy?"

Mrs. Granger looked up then from her spot beside her husband and said, "Oh, she was feeling a bit peaked this morning and went back to have a lie in this morning.  Something from dinner last night mustn't have sat well with her.  I'm sure she'll be fine."

Tonks turned to Hermione who took a seat beside Harry, across from her parents.  "Oh, so how's the hall looking?  Ready for the big celebration?" 

"Oh, wonderful," Hermione said beaming.  "Harry and I worked all day yesterday and it looks brilliant!"  She turned to her father then and said, "Now Dad, I'm not sure how much Mum has told you, but we're hosting a huge event here tonight.  It's called a Celebration."

This was the first meal Mr. Granger had attended since the infamous first dinner.  Mrs. Granger had found him awake the night before when she turned in and they'd rustled up a late night meal for him.  Hermione's mother had sent Hermione away and assured her that she would take care of her husband—both in helping him eat and in making sure he backed off about his daughter's life in general.  

Hermione had been expressing a fair bit of concern to her mother the past day or so about her dad possibly making trouble for her and Harry if he were awake at the Celebration.  Now, as Hermione and her mother began to explain the day's events in grand detail, Harry assumed it was as much to convince Mr. Granger to control his fatherly impulses, as it was to ensure he wouldn't have a chance to interject any words himself.  

"Oi, Harry," Tonks said, slurping her cream with coffee.  "You're going to save me a dance tonight, aren't you?"  Tonks screwed up her face, her short black hair growing into long blond tendrils and, as she opened her now stunningly pale blue eyes, she batted them flirtatiously at Harry.  

Harry just laughed.  

"What?  Not how you like a girl?" Tonks asked and then turned to stare intently at Hermione.  The shiny blond hair darkened into a multi-hued brown and grew in volume until it rivalled Hermione's bushy mane.  Tonks' narrow slim nose shortened to Hermione's and her skin tone went from pale ivory to a rosy cream.  She opened her eyes, now brown, and batted them at Harry.  "Better?"

Harry folded his hands beneath his chin and looked at the Hermione-look-alike with a soft smile.  "Lips—they're not full enough," he said. 

Tonks looked narrow-eyed at Hermione for a second, checking if Harry was right and conceded with a nod before smacking her lips and making them morph.  

Harry smiled as Tonks puckered her lips at him.  "Your eyes need more… too dark.  They should be lighter—more gold."  Tonks changed again and Harry next corrected, "Eyelashes are longer."

Tonks rolled her eyes, lengthened her lashes and then stood up, sticking out her chest.  "Everything else a right match, Harry?" she asked salaciously, making Harry and Hermione both blush bright red.

Tiredly, Remus said, "Nymphadora, don't make me send you to your room."

Tonks scowled at Remus, her true form returning.  "Don't think you're not dancing with me, too, Lupin," she said threateningly as she snagged a rasher of bacon and stalked out the room.  

"Well," said Mrs. Granger politely, "I'm sure that makes for quite the party trick."  

"Mum, I'm going to go call the Weasleys and see if perhaps Bill or Mr. Weasley can't bring over a set of dress robes for dad to borrow," Hermione said as she folded her napkin and pushed her plate away.  "Don't forget, you've got to pick one out from Andy's wardrobe.  

"Dress robes?" Mr. Granger said with a wary look at his daughter.  "I have to wear a dress?" He laughed shortly then and shook his head, saying, "Oh no, no, no—I do not think so!"

"It's not a dress, Dad," Hermione said as she stood up and prepared to leave the drawing room.  "Besides, you wouldn't want to be the only one standing out like a sore thumb, now would you?"

Remus also stood now and looked to Harry as he said, "I'm going to sort through the rest of the post and send off a letter to Albus.  You're sure there's nothing else we need from him now?"

Harry just shook his head as Remus smiled and left the room.  Harry had been perfectly content eating his breakfast but suddenly, as he realized he was now alone in the room with both Mr. and Mrs. Granger, his stomach felt rather too queasy to accept food.  

Mrs. Granger smiled at Harry and he tried to remind himself that he knew he was safe as long as she was around.  "So, Harry, Hermione tells us you're a bit nervous about this event tonight?"

Harry swallowed.  When did his mouth get so dry?  "Not nervous so much really," he said.  "Just… I've never done it before.  I've never seen one of these before and well, I have to do the main part and I don't know what to expect.  So, yeah," he laughed, "I guess that means I am nervous."

"Oh, but everyone here goes on about how you're simply a brilliant wizard," she said beaming at him fondly.  "I'm sure you'll do splendidly.  I know I'm most excited to witness this ritual.  Hermione's told us that the spell you'll use tonight is one from which Christianity draws some of its liturgical roots.  It's absolutely fascinating the influences the Wizarding world has had on our common world.  Don't you think Philip?" she prompted her husband.

"Um, fascinating," he said dryly, sipping his coffee and narrowing his eyes at Harry.

Mrs. Granger laughed at her husband.  "Now, Dear…do you need another nap to improve your mood?"  Mr. Granger just glared at his wife.

Harry took advantage of having Mr. Granger's glare being directed away from him and spoke.  "I know Tonks was very sorry for causing you trouble, Mr. Granger.  She said it's how she's been used to dealing with some of her father's muggle relations."

Mr. Granger turned from his wife and gave Harry an unreadable look as he said, "Yes, well my own daughter must have thought it was the right way to go, too as she was the second person to try to _control_ me."

"You know, Philip, I think there's a very plain lesson to be learned from all this," Mrs. Granger said pointedly.  He gave her a wary look and she went on.  "Hermione—all these people in this world—they can control us all they want and we would never know the difference."  She turned to Harry then, saying, "It's true, isn't it Harry?"

Harry, not really thinking this was the best thing to point out, paused and then had no choice but to nod along and mumble, "More or less, I suppose."  

Mrs. Granger set down her teacup and looked off towards the window ass she said, "It's one thing to have a headstrong child who you need to realize you just can't control anymore and that they're ready and willing to live their own life regardless of what their parents have to say about it.  But us, having a daughter who is a witch…" She looked back to the table now.  "She's always had an especially stubborn streak, but the fact is—if we tried to be just as stubborn and forbid her to live in this world or to live out her decisions, then she'd just make us forget everything that made us feel that way and there'd be nothing we could do."

Mr. Granger did not seem to be taking well to this 'reasoning' from his wife. "Now I hardly think—" 

"No, Philip, there's nothing to think about it.  Hermione's told me.  Their world supports her.  If they believe someone 's family might cause a problem between our two worlds then their Ministry will take it as a serious matter and handle any 'threats'.  Even if she was still a student, the school and Ministry wouldn't believe it safe for a half-educated witch to be forcibly taken from this world where she'd be likely to perform all sorts of uncontrollable and possibly dangerous magic."

"It's true," Hermione said quietly, walking back into the room and sighing deeply before sitting back down.  She looked to her father pleadingly and said, "I'm a witch and always will be.  It would be incredibly dangerous for everyone involved if a magical person or child was never educated about their powers."  

Mr. Granger looked from Hermione, to his wife, to Harry and back to Hermione again.  He sighed heavily and plaintively said to her, "I always thought of this magic as your gift.  A gift you'd be able to go off and learn about and then come back and use it to help people somehow."

Hermione smiled and snuck a glance at Harry.  "It is, Dad," she said quietly.

"But it sounds like you're off to live in this world forever and that you want to distance yourself from us forever!"

Hermione bit her lip and looked down.  Mrs. Granger reached out to her daughter and squeezed her hand as she said, "Philip, we need to accept that this _is_ her world."  

"You'll always be my mum and dad," Hermione said quietly as Harry studiously studied the tablecloth.  He was used to witnessing the Dursleys' undeserved bouts of pride in their 'Duddykins' and even used to seeing the smothering fussing of Mrs. Weasley over her family but he'd never witnessed a heartfelt and almost physically painfully emotional exchange such as this one now.  He wished he could just slip away unnoticed and unmissed but he knew his absence would be more obvious than his presence right now.  He forced his mind to mentally list the things he had to do today, trying to stop the lump in his throat from forcing its way up.  He was relieved when Hermione reached out to his hand and asked, "Are you going to shower this morning yet?"

He shook his wandering thoughts from his mind and said, "Oh, yes.  I should go do that." His eyes flickered up across the table.  "If you'll excuse me then," he said as Mrs. Granger smiled warmly.

He rose as Hermione suggested, "Perhaps you should try to nap, Dad, to make sure you're not likely to nod off this evening."  As Harry left the room, he heard all three Grangers exchanging more or less good-natured teasing all at the expense of Mr. Granger.  

Harry wrapped the towel tight around his waist and myopically felt around for his glasses on the sink.  He slid them on, scooped up his wand and his pile of clothes that he'd been wearing and flung open the door.  The jet of red light hit him before he even realized what it was.   

"H-Harry?" a quiet voice said as Harry felt someone kneel beside him.  

He cracked open his eyes and--"Neville?  What the—" Neville, looking mortified, was holding his wand and kneeling on one knee beside Harry and warily eyeing the prone and unmoving form of Moody.  

"I—he…he just Stunned you out of nowhere!" Neville said.  He looked back and began to help Harry up to his feet.  "Harry—he just stopped and waited and…and then he cursed you before you even had the door open.  So—so I Stunned him."  

Harry couldn't tell whether Neville was more stunned at what Moody had done or that he, Neville, had managed to catch unawares the legendary ex-Auror.  But there it was; Moody caught off his guard after trying to catch Harry off his.  Harry grinned, checked his towel and that he had his wand and pushed his glasses up his nose.  "Watch this," he said to Neville.  Harry pointed his wand at Moody and muttered, "_Baton invertare pierna_."  

He watched as Moody's wand, which had been clutched in his hand, switched places with his peg leg.  For whatever reason, that trick just amused Harry to no end.  Neville took a step back and Harry turned to him.  "Thanks for that, Neville.  He'd have had me if it weren't for you."

Neville just looked at Harry, trying to gauge why Harry wasn't taking this more seriously.  "But—is that—I mean isn't—"

"That Moody?" Harry asked, still grinning.  "Yeah, and he always tries to catch me off my guard."  Harry, leaning over to pick up his clothes from the floor, jerked his head towards Moody as he said, "But watch now as he wakes up."

Harry and Neville could see Moody's eyes snap open and then one arm whipped forward to point at them unerringly, his own peg-leg.  "Argh!  Damn you, Potter!" Moody growled as he jabbed his leg out towards Harry, setting off sparks.  

Harry dodged them easily by hopping.  "And you're supposed to be training me?" Harry said, laughing as Moody yanked his wand off of his leg.  

"Eh—don't go getting a swollen head, there, Potter.  I'd have had you there if it weren't for Longbottom."  Moody said as he reattached his wooden leg.  He looked up at Neville then and said, "Hell of a stunner there, Laddie, hell of a stunner.  Now give me a hand."  

Neville helped Moody up from the floor and stammered, "S-sorry about that, Professor Moody."

"Not a problem," Moody said as he dusted himself off.  "But you call me 'Professor' one more time, I'll test out your reflexes."  Moody's electric blue eye swivelled around in its socket then and he said, "Ah, I see Lupin in the library.  Later."

"Er, how about you give me a minute, Neville?" Harry said indicating his state of undress.  He nodded across the hall and said, "Check out in there.  Hermione and I did all that yesterday for the Celebration.  I'll be right back."

Harry unceremoniously dumped his dirty clothes in the corner and pulled open his wardrobe.  He quickly threw on a pair of black trousers and a white shirt.  He then grabbed a pair of socks and hurried out of his room, across the hallway and into the bedecked practice hall. Neville was standing near the center and looking about the hall.  

"What do you think?" Harry asked as he pulled out a chair and sat in order to pull on his socks.  

"Nice, Harry.  What is this room anyway?  A ballroom?"

"Nah," Harry said, switching to the other foot now.  "It used to be bedrooms—Sirius' mum and dad's if I recall.  He tore them up and gutted them.  He redid the whole house last year."  Harry stood up now and walked over to Neville, still surveying the room.  "The whole house used to be a real Slytherin-esque motif but, as you might have seen, it's swapped its silver and green for red and gold now."

"I noticed," Neville said with a small laugh.  

"Yeah, so this—" Harry gestured around the room, "—I can't recall if Sirius knew what he wanted to do with it or what but, well, he never finished this space off.   Hermione, Remus and Tonks went at it this summer so we'd have a place to train in here.  Have you met Tonks?"

"Er, I don't think so," Neville said.  As Harry looked at Neville, he was suddenly surprised to see that they were now of equal height.  Neville had always been the only boy in their year that had always been consistently shorter than Harry.  "Say, Harry, I wanted to thank you—for inviting me," Neville said earnestly.  "And Luna, too.  You didn't have to—"

"Course I did," Harry said matter-of-factly.  "You went with me—both of you did when I…when I set off to help Sirius."  Harry sighed deeply and added, "You guys didn't have to go.  You didn't have risk your own lives for someone who, for all you knew was a wanted mass murderer.  Thanks—thanks for that."

Neville looked down at the floor and nodded.  He was scuffing the bottom of his shoe across the polished wood floor and Harry noticed he had a rucksack over his shoulder.  

"So," Harry said as he gestured for Neville to follow him. "How was your trip with Moody?  I didn't know when you'd be arriving."  Harry led Neville across the hall and into his room.  

"Oh, it was alright.  He and Gran are old friends and they visited for a while before we left."

"Have a seat," Harry said.  "How'd you get here then?"

Neville looked about Harry's room and took one of the chairs by the fireplace.  "We took the Knight Bus."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, but the driver looked at me like I was mad when he asked my name.  Said he knew I wasn't who I said I was," Neville said frowning.  

Harry suppressed a guilty grin. "Odd," was all he said.  "So how was your Christmas?"  As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry wanted to drag them back in.  Neville and his Gran had always gone to visit Neville's parents in St. Mungo's on Christmas pasts.  However, this year would have been the first year they could not have done that as the Longbottoms had disappeared last Halloween with not a clue as to where they'd gone.  "Sorry," Harry said.  "Never mind."

Neville looked up quickly and said, "No—it's okay.  I mean, yeah it was…probably the worst holiday ever but…that's why I'm glad you invited me here.  It's depressing at home now.  I'm…I'm just glad to get out for a bit."  Neville shrugged and then asked excitedly, "So where are we?  This is the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix?  Do you live here?"

Harry laughed softly and dropped down his shoes as he sat across from Neville on the sofa.  "Unfortunately, I only can live here part of the time.  But yes, this is the headquarters and has been since the summer after our fourth year.  I suppose you and Luna will know that much at least.  She's supposed to be arriving with the Weasleys anytime now," Harry said as he checked the clock.  

"Who is all coming?" Neville asked. "The entire Order of the Phoenix?  Gran said my mum and dad joined less than a year out of school.  Are you in the Order if you're staying here?  Oh, and I already know Moody told me anything I learn here or about the Order is top secret."

Harry smiled slightly.  "Well, everyone who was in the old Order—when your parents were in it—will be here.  Everyone who's left, that is.  The Weasleys are newer members and they're all coming of course.  Tonks—she was too young to be in the old Order and she's also Sirius' cousin's daughter.  Her mum, Andromeda, is here too.  Her dad was a muggleborn who was just recently killed during the Halloween attacks.  Tonks is an Auror—you'll like her."  Harry stood up after tying his shoes and said, "Come on, I'll show you around.  Did you run into anyone else on your way upstairs?"  

"No."

"Okay, remember Professor Lupin?  He's here.  He lives here.  Oh—I suppose I should start with the house.  It was Sirius' house growing up but his family's mostly gone.  When the Order reconvened a year and half ago, he gave it over to Dumbledore to use for the Order.  It already had all sorts of enchantments and spells on it to keep it hidden so it was perfect.  Well, besides being a filthy pit, it was perfect.  No one had lived in it for over ten years."  

Harry led Neville around and gave the history of how Grimmauld Place became headquarters and became what it is today.   He paused a moment in the drawing room with his eye on the magnificent twinkling tree that blocked the view of the Black family tapestry—the only stubbornly remaining remnant of the House of Black.  He skipped over that detail in his tour.  

Tonks was busy trying out hairstyles for the night and her mum was holding up various dress robes for Mrs. Granger to select and borrow for the evening.  Hermione was helping her mother decide and her father was back to napping for the afternoon.  Harry was just leading Neville down the stairs from the second floor into the entry hall when a voice rang out from below.

"Oy!  Anybody here!" Ron's voice called out.  "Ow—_Mum_!  What'd you do that for?"

"Because you're loud and obnoxious," Ginny's smug voice announced.  

"Ron—_hush_!  Ginny—apologize."

"I'm sorry you're loud and obnoxious, Ron," Ginny said without a hint of remorse.

"In with you—all of you.  Come on--move it forward!" Mrs. Weasley said harshly.  

Harry couldn't help but grin as he jogged down the steps, towards the sound of arriving Weasleys. 

"Everyone accounted for?" Mrs. Weasley asked as Mr. Weasley shut the door behind them.  "One, two, three—"

"I'm here," Luna said serenely as she stepped out from behind Ron, who was stomping snow off his feet, and looked up at Harry.  "Hello, Harry.  Thank you for inviting me," she said as Neville and Harry descended the stairs.  "Hello, Neville," she said with a beatific smile.    

"Hiya, Luna," Neville said as he quickly rushed to assist her as she Luna shrugged off her cloak and waited for him to take it.  "Oh, sorry," he said to her as he caught it just as it began to slip.  

"Ron—move it!" Ginny said, tugging the end of her cloak from beneath Ron's feet.  "You're on my cloak!"

"What's it doing down there?" Ron demanded.  

"Getting trampled by your clodhoppers, that's what!"

"Oh, you two!" Mrs. Weasley said frowning at them.  

Mr. Weasley was taking her cloak and smiled as he saw Harry.  "Hello Harry!  Everything going smoothly?  Where do you want our cloaks?"  

"Cloaks in here," Harry said gesturing into the dining room, through the archway that once used to be the wall holding up the infamous Mrs. Black's portrait.  "Through the Sirius Black Memorial Archway," he said with a smile.  

Ron laughed as he checked out the arch.  "Yeah, last time I saw this, the plaster was still falling in chunks, remember?"

Ginny turned to Neville and Luna and explained, "There used to be this portrait here of Mrs. Black—Sirius' mother—and she was a real ber—"

"Vir-_ginia_!" Mrs. Weasley rounded with an armful of cloaks.

"—er—piece of work," she said before she mouthed the word _'bitch'_ behind her mother.  "Anyway, the portrait was permanently stuck to the wall and for over a year, no one could remove the thing.  Every time someone would come in the house or make a peep she would _screech_ filthy insults—"

Ron cut in with a shrill, high voice, saying, "_Filth! Scum!  Blood-traitors!  Foul_!"

Ginny nodded.  "Only worse.  And she _hated_ Sirius—"

"Loathed," Harry offered. 

"Right—she was _wretched_ to him.   Anyway, she got away with being a bit—" Ginny eyed her mother, "—bit of a pain in the rear until Harry blasted the whole thing to bits—wall and all."  Ginny clasped her hands in front of her chest and mocked batting her eyelashes at Harry as she said, "Sirius would have been so proud."  

Harry just looked at her and smirked.  "You've been hanging around the twins too long."

Harry was then caught in a rib-crushing hug from Mrs. Weasley who said, "Oh, hello dear, now that my arms are free I can give you a proper greeting."  Harry wheezed and she finally let go.  "You're getting to be so tall now, Harry," she said misty-eyed and looking up at him.  "Where is everyone dear?" 

"Oh, Tonks and her mum were working on lending Mrs. Granger a set of robes for the evening.  Hermione said she Floo'd you earlier to bring a set to lend to her dad?"

"Oh, yes," Mrs. Weasley said, brushing away a few ginger strands of cat hair from Harry's shirt.  "From the measurements she gave me, Bill seemed like the best fit and we brought one of his.  We can charm it to adjust to size if need be.  Come along now, let's see if we can't get this place ready."

Harry frowned as she marched past him and up the stairs.  They'd been working for nearly two straight days getting the house ready.   What else did she think there was to do?  He was glad Hermione and Remus weren't here to hear that comment or they'd all be grumbling.  

"Hey, mate, guess what?" Ron said, clapping Harry on the shoulder.  He was grinning slyly and making sure his mum was out of sight before he turned to Harry and said, "Fred and George said they'd sneak me some Firewhiskey in Butterbeer bottles tonight.  Whatdya say we do this thing right?"  

Harry did his best to look down his nose at the taller Ron.  "Hmm, let's see," Harry said, crossing his arms and pretending to think.  "Hermione's here, Hermione's parents are here, our Head of House will be here, Professor Dumbledore will be here, nearly the entire Order will be here and I've got a live connect to—well, I think I'd just as well keep my wits about me, thanks."

Ron just grumbled, "You're no fun."

"Where're Bill and Charlie?  And Fleur?"  Harry asked, laughing at Ron.

"Coming separately," Ginny said.  "As are the twins.  Harry—we all need to put on our dress robes and get ready yet, as do you, it looks.  Where should we go?"

"Same place we always go?" Ron said mockingly to his sister as if she were mad.

"No, mate," Harry said.  "Tonks and her mum are staying here as are the Grangers.  Let's go all the way up.  Ginny and Luna can use Hermione's room and we can go to mine."  

"We'd have been here sooner," Ron said as they trudged upstairs.  "But because Percy heard us all say we'd see you on Saturday, he came back to the house and was hanging around and asking where we're going.  He even asked to come along.  Can you imagine?  Percy coming to a Celebration for Sirius Black?"  Ron guffawed.  

"Ginny!  Luna!"  Hermione called excitedly as they came to the second floor. "You're here!  Oh dear, we've only got two hours to get ready," she bemoaned, looking at her wristwatch.  "Harry, take Ginny and Luna to my room to change.  I'll be there after I try and wake Dad and give him the robes Mrs. Weasley brought."

Ron was just shaking his head.  "Two hours?  What do you need _two hours_ to get ready for?"

Ginny scoffed at him and led the way upstairs.  "Ron, just because _you_ don't like to look good, doesn't mean the rest of us don't."  

The girls hurried off and sequestered themselves in Hermione's room with Ginny giggling the entire time.  

Ron and Neville went back with Harry to his room to lounge and mainly listen to Ron talk about Christmas at the Burrow.  He spent a fair amount of time describing the food he ate with fondness and then took great delight in telling Neville about his brother Percy.  

"Oh, we interrogated the prat after you got out of the fire, Harry.  Bill and Dad got in on asking him how he could do a non-public award for the honour; even it was only Third Class.  At first he said it was his idea to give it to you personally and not in some public thing because he said he knew you didn't like the attention."

"Order of Merlin," Neville whispered, still shaking his head and looking at Harry with awe.

"Yeah, and then, when Bill starts in on how the nomination got through without there being any press announcements, Percy slips and admits, 'oh, that's what I meant.  I'm awarding him the _nomination_ for the honour.'  Can you _believe_ that?"  Ron parroted Percy saying, "Once the Minister endorses a recommendation, it's but a technicality for the rest to endorse it."

Harry just shook his head.  "Whatever, I'd rather not have to see Percy at all if it's just the same."

"Order of _Merlin_," Neville breathed out again.   

"Yeah, and I think he just wanted to find out where the Order's headquarters are," Ron said darkly.  "Chess?"  

Neville, Ron and Harry remained hanging out in Harry's room as the girls could be heard making trips to and from the bathrooms from Hermione's room and shrieking and giggling an awful lot.  Ron refused to even face the open doorway of the room after he'd caught a glimpse of Ginny running past wearing only a bra and towel around her waist.  

The twins showed up about an hour later as Harry was figuring that he ought to throw on his dress robes.  Ron hadn't stopped nattering on since he'd arrived and was currently finding Neville to be as much of an easy chess victory as Harry.  

"Good evening, gentlemen!" George announced as he strode into Harry's room wearing a spectacularly bright lime green set of robes.  Fred, grinning, followed his twin in wearing robes that were equally as garish but in a shocking magenta that made Harry cringe as the two colors practically vibrated as the twins looped their arms around each other and grinned.  "Like our new duds?"

Ron just guffawed.  Neville looked mortified.  Harry snorted and asked, "Er, is that _pink_?"

"Pink!" Fred scoffed.  He tutted and said, "Harry, Harry, Harry—just because you may not feel man enough to wear a lively red like I—" He tutted again.  "You're simply jealous."

"It's pink," Harry stated unequivocally and looking at Fred with disbelief.  

George snickered and shoved Fred aside.  "Told him it was pink," he said merrily as he threw himself on Harry's bed.  

"The salesman said it was Flaming Fireball!" Fred protested.

Harry snorted again and bent over with laughter as George said, "It's flaming, all right!"

"Oi!" Fred shouted at his twin.  "You said it looked perfect when we left!"

George snickered again, rolled to the side and then off of the bed, ducking behind Harry, as he called out, "Yeah, because you looked like a perfect _poof_!"  

Ron cackled and hooted as he pointed at Fred with glee.  Even Neville was covering his mouth and shaking with laughter.  

"Why I ought to—" Fred pulled his wand and took a large stride towards Harry who was now serving as George's human shield.  "Stand aside, Harry," he growled.  "Or I'll take you down too."

"Like hell you will," George said and then cowered back, laughing, with his hands on Harry's shoulders.  

Fred sent out a spray of sparks aimed at George's head and Harry had to duck them, crying out, "Oi!"  When Fred aimed his wand again, Harry reached behind and dragged George out in front to serve as _his_ shield and held him there as another set of sparks spattered George.  

"What's all the noise?" Luna said from the doorway, interrupting before Fred could get in another shot.  Harry was currently holding up George in front of his body in some sort of maneuver that looked like a sweeping dancing move.  

Harry took advantage of the distraction, dropped George to the floor with a muffled 'oof!' and then quickly disarmed Fred.  He plucked George's drawn wand from his hand while he was still down on the floor.  "Hello, Luna," Harry said calmly as he stepped over George and glared at Fred.  "I'll just be keeping your wands a bit, shall I?"  Fred gaped at him and Ron cackled again, smirking at the twins.  

Neville had risen and was currently complimenting Luna on how she looked and offering her a seat.  Luna was wearing long, pale lavender robes with a sheer silvery sheen to them. 

Harry shrugged on his dress robes over his shirt and walked over to Neville and Luna.  "You two think you can manage these gits?"  He gestured over his shoulder to where Fred was flicking George off with his finger as Ron teased Fred.  Harry handed over the twins' wands and said, "I'm going to go down and see how everyone else is coming along."

Neville nodded and Luna smiled serenely saying, "Of course, Harry."  She watched him begin to button the front of his robes and remarked, "You know, most wizards don't wear other clothing beneath a robe."  She turned to Neville then and asked, "What do you wear beneath your robes?" as Harry shut his eyes and slipped past them, desperately trying to not envision what Neville wore beneath _anything_.  

Harry felt the too quiet of a silencing spell just as he knocked on the library door.  Whoever was in there, had warded it. The door swung open on its own moments later, revealing Moody, his wand pointed at the door, as the one who'd opened it.  

"Come in, Potter," He growled.  "And shut the door after ya."

Remus was leaning against the desk and Professor Dumbledore was seated at the small round library table.  

"Professor," Harry said in greeting to Dumbledore.  "I didn't realize you were here already."

Dumbledore smiled as Harry entered, Moody resealing the door behind him.  "I trust you are well, Harry?  I've heard that this house has been the host to much excitement over the past several days what with all its many and varied visitors and guests," he said with a twinkle.  

Harry exchanged a look with Remus and dryly replied, "You might say that."

"Anything suspicious from Voldemort, Potter?" Moody asked as he reclined back in a chair across from Dumbledore.  He gestured with his wand towards Harry's scar and said, "Heard he's been meaning to get inside your skull."

Harry patted down his fringe self-consciously and muttered, "Er, not _too_ much really."  

All three men looked up with interest at this statement and Moody asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

It had been a busy week and Harry had not mentioned to anyone how he'd been awakened from sleep early on Christmas morning with a few short and sharp bursts of pain in his scar.  As he mentioned it now, Moody exchanged a pointed looked with Dumbledore and then asked, "Christmas morning, eh?  'Round three in the morning or there 'bouts?"

Harry nodded.  "Yeah…" His eyes narrowed.  "Why?"

Moody shrugged unconvincingly as he said, "Oh, no reason."

Harry's eyes narrowed even more and he looked to Dumbledore.  "_What_?"  He knew Remus had been trying to make sure Harry wasn't busy worrying about the Order today when he was supposed to be preparing to celebrate Sirius' life, but if that meant they were going to be all _evasive_ about whatever this is--then it'd drive Harry mad more than anything else.  

Dumbledore was no longer twinkling at all now and sighed remorsefully as he said, "It was not unexpected but a loss nonetheless--very early on Christmas morning Aurors were alerted to an attack at the Crofton family home.  It was called in anonymously and the first pair of responding Aurors appears to have been ambushed and died nearly on the spot.    A second team of three Aurors was dispatched when no one reported back a short time later--around 3:00 A.M. and only one returned.  He claims to have seen Voldemort himself there and that he managed to Apparate away as he saw Voldemort kill one of his fellow Aurors."  

Harry sunk into a chair between Moody and Dumbledore.  "Four Aurors were killed?"  _No wonder Fudge wanted to churn them out like Chocolate Frogs_.  

"Damn waste," Moody growled. "Should've sent the fool Patrollers if we'd have known it was lambs to slaughter."

"The whole family, gone," Harry said; it was more of a statement than a question really.  He knew the answer.  

Moody snorted as he said, "Hell, I'd vote we send old Cornelius to respond to the next call or two.  See if he can stay alive without having to slink off on a holiday in the middle of a war."  

"Is he back yet?" Remus asked. 

Moody snorted again.  "Not a peep.  Maybe he sailed off to the Isle o' Drear," he said wistfully.  

"Harry," Dumbledore said, focusing back on the original conversation.  "Did you see anything at all when you said your scar awoke you?"  

"Oh, er..." Harry thought back and absently rubbed the offending scar as he tried to recall just what had awoken him that night.  It had reminded him of an old dream in a way--it had seemed somewhat…familiar.  "Green light, I think," he said. "The pains are what woke me up.  They were very brief--painful, but brief."  That was it--the green flash of a Killing Curse.  Harry had had similar indistinct dreams with green flashes of light all his life like that and after he'd seen the curse cast the first time, he'd known it was flashbacks to when his parents were murdered.  It was indeed, an all too familiar dream.

"Molly," Moody said.  

"What?" Harry was lost.  

There was a sharp rapping at the door then and Molly Weasley's voice called out, "Alastor?  Are you in there, Alastor?  Open up, I know you can see me!  Remus?  Are you in there, too?"

Harry saw Moody roll his magical eye in a very exasperated fashion (it was frightening to think Harry could now discern facial expressions on Mad-Eye by the way his eye rolled about).  Dumbledore waved his wand at the door to open it and called, "Come in, Molly."  

"Oh, Albus," she said breathlessly, her brow furrowed.  "I'm glad you're here, too.  Mundungus just arrived and he's lugging _two crates_ of that Firewhiskey up the stairs right now!  Someone needs to put the strongest charm they can on that rot so the children don't get at it!  Oh, Harry dear--you're in here.  Hello."  She smiled sweetly at him as soon as she took the time to notice him and immediately started trying to pat down his untidy hair.  

"I hear congratulations are in order, Molly?" Dumbledore said with a smile.  "I've heard young Percy returned to the Burrow for the holidays and brought along a surprise?" 

Mrs. Weasley's face brightened considerably at this and she thankfully stopped fussing with Harry's hair.  "Oh yes!  Two surprises, actually!  He's married, oh--it's _wonderful_ news really!"  She dabbed at her eyes then and said, "He and Penelope--she's such a _sweet_ dear--they've agreed that we can have a party for them in lieu of their wedding after the baby comes this summer.  And that's the second news!  Our very first _grandchild_ is on the way!  They were married a few months ago it seems and weren't sure how to tell us all that it'd happened.  When she got the news of the baby, they decided it was just too much to keep from family.  Oh--isn't it _wonderful_?  I knew Percy was always such a _good_ boy!"  

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes and excused himself as Mrs. Weasley said, "Oh, Harry, you're such a gentleman," and then sat in his vacated seat.  

Harry nodded at Remus who was the only other one not at the table now hearing Mrs. Weasley gush on about Percy.  "Heading up," he mouthed to Remus who nodded back.  He waved to Dumbledore at the back of Moody's head (who could, after all, still see him) and left the library, shaking his head and glad to be out of earshot of the praise-Percy-a-thon.    

"Wotcher!" Tonks called as she jumped out into the hallway in front of Harry.  "Wanna dance?" she asked grinning.  She grabbed Harry's waist with one arm and took his hand in the other and twirled them about.  Unfortunately, she twirled them right into a potted plant and they both stumbled gracelessly, barely managing to remain on their feet.  "Ow," Tonks groaned.  "You've got two left feet, Harry!" she said cheekily and then stuck out her tongue.  

"I could say the same about…someone else," Harry said straightening out his robes.  

Tonks just grinned.  "Looking good," she said as she checked out his robes.  "But I can't stay and ogle you all day.  I gots to help Mumsy--she wants her hair pulled back."  Tonks then bounced away and into her mother's room, leaving Harry clear to finally pass by without the likelihood of a collision with Tonks the moving wrecking ball.  

"Hey, Harry!" George said as soon as Harry returned to his bedroom.  "Tell Ronnikins here about the prophecy!"  Harry felt like he'd been punched in the gut. 

"Yeah," Fred said.  "He doesn't think you know about any of it but we told him the whole Order…"

Fred trailed off as George, turning a bit red at the ears, elbowed him sharply in the ribs.  Apparently the look on Harry's face had suddenly given them a reason to pause.  

Ron however, hadn't seen the look on Harry's face and was smugly laughing at the twins.  "I'm telling you--you're _full_ of it.  Harry would know and if he knew, then I would know.  But I _have_ been wondering--ow!  What the hell you'd do that for?" he snarled at George who had kicked him soundly in the shin.  Ron turned, scowling, towards Harry and gaped when he saw Harry's face.  

Whatever look was on his face; Harry imagined it must have been awful if their reactions were anything to judge by.  

Luna, the only one who seemed unfazed and capable of speech at the moment, said, "I think perhaps this isn't a topic with which Harry is comfortable."  

"Spot on, Luna," Harry said weakly.  He swallowed and then glared hard at the twins.  "But I'm even less _comfortable_ with the way _you two_ are throwing about things that are _supposedly_ _secrets_!"

Fred and George scrambled from their spots on the floor to stand up now and placate Harry.  "Er, Harry, _Harry_, see everyone here already _knows_ there was a prophecy--they were all at the Ministry with you, remember?"

"Yeah," Fred said, nodding.  "We've only heard about the fight you guys had from Gin and Ronnie."

"Yeah," George said, looking to the others for confirmation as he went on to say, "Neville and Luna were telling us all about what they saw and did."

"Brilliant fighting, mate--really," Fred said with a grin that disappeared after a mere second.  

"Er, yeah, but then Neville told us about how the prophecy that You-Know-Who was after broke.  No one heard it, they said."  

Harry could see Neville nodding vigorously behind the twins.  Ron had stood up now and, his mouth still open but his eyes narrowed, he walked closer to Harry and the twins.  

George smiled at Ron and said with a tense laugh, "And then Ron here was trying to guess what the prophecy could have said and he was being _stupid_--"

"--spouting utter rubbish!"

Fred and George both tried to smile charmingly but it wasn't working.  

"Er," Fred said in a high voice.  "We thought you'd have _told him_ that it was at least, you know--er…"  

"Yes?" Harry prompted through clenched teeth.  

He could have sworn George meeped like a guinea pig.  "Er, about you?" Fred said in the tiniest voice.  

Ron then gave a very weak laugh and said, "But that's ridiculous Harry, right?  'Cuz…'cuz you'd have told me anything _that_ big, right?"  

The hope in Ron's eyes was heartbreaking and Harry looked down as he shook his head.  "No Ron," he said, still bitter towards the twins.  "Sorry," he said as he looked back up to meet Ron's wide-eyed expression.  "But no--there are some things I just don't want _anyone_ to know about."  He shot a look at the twins then who flinched at his glare.  "That's not just _my_ secret--by the way, but the _Order's_ secret!  _The biggest bloody secret the Order even has_!  What the HELL _were you two thinking?!"_ he shouted at the twins, his anger flaring. 

"We…we thought he _knew_!"

Harry's shoulders slumped.  "No. All right?  I can't believe you two…"

Fred and George both had the two most pathetic and sorry-looking faces that Harry had ever seen that he had to laugh.  "You two are pathetic," he said.  The twins nodded agreeably.  

"But, Harry?" Ron said, looking lost.  "You'd…  I mean…  Why wouldn't you--?"

"Don't," Harry said to stop him.  "Just don't.  Please, not now, not today and not until I'm ready.  Please--" he closed his eyes, "--not until I'm ready to tell you.  Okay?"  When Harry opened his eyes Ron looked like he had to bite his tongue to keep from asking a million questions.  

"We're sorry, Harry," Fred said as George nodded.  "Look--I'll make sure and keep these _pink_ robes on tonight just for you if makes you laugh?"  He twirled in a not-so-graceful circle.  

Harry just shook his head again and sighed.  "Pathetic, you two--_pathetic_."

"Harry?" Hermione's voice called from out in the hallway.  Harry gave one last glare and eye roll to the twins and turned to go out and meet Hermione.  She was peaking out from her bedroom doorway and when she saw Harry, she asked, "Did we just hear yelling?  Ginny thought it might have been you."  

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling as he said, "It's a long story and I don't…"  The words rolled off his tongue and died, as did his ability for thought when he finally saw what Hermione was wearing.  

_Red_.  It was her new red dress robes.  _Red_.  The red robes laced up the entire front of the gown and skimmed very closely along Hermione's slender frame.  There was some voluminous and filmy white layer beneath all that red and the creamy white fabric was spilling out beyond the hem of the red robes.  The white was also just peaking through the gold-corded lacings all along the front of the red robes and the filmy fabric also fell just over and above the swell of her breasts.  The filmy white fabric that was almost see-through reminded Harry of whipped cream and he so wanted to just pull back on the drift of fabric that was covering up the tops of her pushed up breasts.  

"I think Harry likes it," Ginny said with a snicker from behind Hermione.  

"Oh, do you like Hermione's hair, Harry?" Mrs. Granger called from inside the bedroom.  The sound of Hermione's mother rattled something in Harry's brain and he smacked his mouth suddenly, wondering why it seemed so dry.  

Ginny just snickered and handed Hermione a handful of the same filmy cream-colored fabric, saying, "Here, I think you'll need this to sop up his drool."  

Hermione turned and smacked Ginny on the arm.  "Harry's doesn't _drool_," she said indignantly.  She turned back into her room, threw a coquettish look at Harry, and then drew on the filmy fabric to cover her shoulders and chest.  It was indeed transparent a gleeful voice in Harry's head noted.  

"God, you look beautiful," he said, finally finding his voice.  

"Oh, she does, doesn't she?" her mother said as she came over and fussed with the front bodice of her robes (the very same spot Harry had been thinking about getting a closer look at, she was now trying to conceal just a bit more).  

Harry noted that Ginny and Mrs. Granger were also done up and wearing flattering dress robes.  "You all look wonderful," he said but then couldn't help but turn back to Hermione.  "But…you, I mean…wow," was all he could manage.  

"It's about that time," Hermione said with a bright smile.  "Nervous?"

Harry nodded vaguely.  

"What was the yelling earlier?" she asked as she smoothed the front of his robe.  

"Doesn't matter," Harry said and then offered his arm to her, grinning.  "Shall we go then?"  Fred and George were in the hall and smiling brightly as Harry turned around with Hermione on his arm.  Vaguely, Harry recalled he had very recently been mad at them both, but right now, it was the furthest thing from his mind.   Of course as Mr. Granger showed up, grumbling about having to wear a dress as Mr. Weasley walked with him and expounded upon the benefits of wearing trousers, Harry's mind suddenly felt very conspicuous as to the thoughts it been entertaining about Hermione and those red robes.  _They'd probably look wonderful lying in a heap on my bedroom floor_, he mused.  

They were just waiting now for everyone to gather in the transformed practice hall to begin the Celebration.  Fred kept strutting around and sashaying in his _pink_ robes and trying to wink at Harry.  Harry knew he was just trying to lighten his mood in an apology but it just wasn't helping Harry's nerves.  With a tight smile to Hermione who gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, he said, "I'm going to head on over then."  She smiled and despite her father watching them closely from just behind her, she leaned up and kissed Harry quickly on the mouth.  

 Dumbledore then caught Harry's eye and nodded as Mrs. Weasley finally entered the hall, brushing back Bill's ponytail and frowning as he tried to shoo her off.  Everyone they were expecting was now here.  Dumbledore cleared his throat, raised his wand and set off a _bang!_ to get everyone's attention as he stepped forward towards the center of the hall.  

"Good evening," he said warmly.  "It is my pleasure to see us all gathered here tonight as we celebrate the life of one of our own and a dearly beloved friend.  Now, I'll not wax on with my waffle yet but I did wish to say a few words as to the nature of the ritual we shall witness in but a few moments.  It's tradition for any members whose life has been given in our service to be honoured with their own feather given by Fawkes—the very phoenix of the Order of the Phoenix.  Not for many years have we had to gather to pay tribute to one of our own but, alas, we are at war yet again."

As Dumbledore explained for those who'd never seen a Celebration in this tradition, Mrs. Weasley bustled up to Harry and whispered, "Who has the wand, dear?  Are you ready?  It can be a bit tricky using this spell for the first time but I'm sure you'll be fine.  It took me three times to try and cast it properly and set our ceremonial light when my mother passed on."   

Harry felt nervous enough without her suggesting he might not get it right on the first try.  His stomach was now doing flip-flops and his palms felt sweaty.  "I'm ready," he mumbled, trying to listen to Dumbledore.  

"Harry?" Dumbledore now said.  "If you would?"  He gestured to the tall brass stand in the center of the room and beckoned Harry forward as he, Dumbledore, stepped aside.

Mrs. Weasley fussed quickly with the collar of his robes and Harry pulled away to step forward as all the lights in the hall dimmed.  The only light in the room came from the two crackling fireplaces and their light sent dancing shadows across the room as all the guests formed a more even circle about Harry.  Harry could see the warm glow of firelight reflecting off the brass charger that rested on the top of the stand and as he took a deep breath, a sudden burst of scarlet and gold flame sprang up as Fawkes appeared, hovering.  Harry couldn't help but marvel at Fawkes' penchant for spectacular entrances and, as the phoenix trilled a string of Phoenix Song, it filled Harry's heart with warmth.  

Fawkes seemed to meet Harry's eyes for a moment as his notes faded away and then in another brilliant burst of flame, Fawkes streaked up into the air and left behind a single, long golden and scarlet-tipped feather that floated gently down upon the charger.  

Harry now took a deep breath, pulled his wand and took a step closer to the charger.  The metal of the brass charger seemed to be glowing and radiating a heat simply from the powerful feather resting upon it.  _Pure joy and love for Sirius, for knowing him and his memory, must fuel the spell_, Harry told himself as he tried to relax and forget about everyone watching and waiting. 

_Requiescat En Pacem_, he reminded himself of the incantation.  Rest in Peace.  It was a spell first learned in Defense Against the Dark Arts class to be used to banish demonic poltergeists.  It sent them on to their proper realm and away from earth.  Here, in this setting the spell was fuelled by love and joy for the deceased and would light the Life Light, symbolic to the start of the Celebration and symbolic in representing a light to help guide the departed soul to their proper realm if they weren't already there.  

The last part had bothered Harry when he first read about it because he couldn't fathom where Sirius might physically be.  The whole mystery of the veil of his sudden disappearance, not just death, but actually vanishing through the veil, was still difficult to wrap his mind around.  Harry had been able to become accepting of the death, but still if he thought about it, he knew he couldn't entirely grasp the loss in a tangible sort of way.  

_He fell through that veil…fighting, coming out of his own safety to come to my aid.  And why was I there in the first place?  Because I thought I was coming to his aid.  I thought he would die if I didn't help him. _ The tragic irony of it was still a source of sadness to Harry and he believed it was likely to always be so.  _I wish he were still here_.  _I wish I'd never lost him.  He was the first person who I just knew I could ask anything, who would do anything for me if I asked.  He didn't even have to know me; he just would because he was my godfather.   _

Harry closed his eyes, his wand out towards the charger, as memories of Sirius now flitted through his mind.  

_Laughing and believing Harry would go off the live with Sirius after the meeting in the Shrieking Shack…_

_Arriving at Flitwick's window on Buckbeak to snatch Sirius before the Dementors could get to him…_

_Receiving post from Sirius sent by brightly colored, tropical birds…_

_Knowing Harry could turn to Sirius with questions and concerns and that he would actually get some sort of answer…_

_Sirius coming to live in Hogsmeade to be near Harry if something happened and suffering to live off of rats to be there…_

_Sirius standing up for Harry when he first came to Grimmauld Place that last summer and insisting that Harry had a right to ask questions and get some answers…_

_Sirius talking about his father and how his grandparents had welcomed Sirius in when he'd ran away from home…_

_Snuffles gambolling about as he accompanied Harry to Kings Cross…_

_Sirius laughing and conjuring piles of magical snow at Christmastime…_

_Sirius standing up to Snape for Harry…_

_Sirius giving Harry the haphazardly wrapped mirror with the intent to make sure Harry had a way to contact him if he had trouble with Snape…_   

Harry's hand was growing warm and he allowed his heart to feel an aching sadness and emptiness.  But it wasn't empty; not like it had first felt when the pain of loss had been acute and raw.  It ached and it was certainly not as full but that part of his heart where Sirius had claimed as his own still held all these memories.  Harry could still hear Sirius' voice, his laughter or see his face, see him transforming into Snuffles; he lived on in memory in Harry's heart.  

Harry was concentrating his entire mind and will on remembering every little thing that Sirius had ever done for him.  

_Signing his permission slip so he could legally go into Hogsmeade…_

_Unwrapping the Firebolt racing broom at Christmas…_

Spending months last spring remodelling Grimmauld Place to purge all memories of the House of Black…

_Creating Harry's first and only room that was his and only his alone_…

~

As Harry stepped forward, Hermione watched him closely and thought, _he looked as nervous as I can ever recall seeing him.  He can't possibly doubt his ability to do this.  He loved Sirius_ _more_ _than probably anyone ever before in his life.  He can't possibly doubt his love is enough to light the fire.  I've read accounts of where mere acquaintances light the feathers for some poor souls who have no real family or close kin to speak of but who still had made a request to have a Celebration.  Surely it can't be that difficult if that's possible.   The love wouldn't even need to be very personal then …  Unless…unless Harry doubts…unless he just doesn't **know** how it would feel to love someone…_   The thought hit Hermione like a ton of bricks.  

~

Harry's wand hovered out over the feather that was glowing with a golden light.  His eyes were closed as he continued to be determined to be thankful for everything Sirius had meant to him and done for him.  He didn't quite want to let go and say good-bye to Sirius; good-bye just seemed so… so forever.  The memories reminded Harry how much he missed Sirius but they also made him realize just how much he wished that wherever Sirius was, that Sirius might finally--_finally_ now be at rest.  

_Requiescat En Pacem.  _The words flash through his mind and Harry's thoughts turned towards thinking of all the suffering Sirius endured in his short life.  

_Being an outcast amongst his own family…losing his best friend in the world because of another friend's betrayal…being wrongly accused of murder and not even being able to care enough to fight it…spending twelve long years in a cell and surrounded by Dementors…finally escaping that torturous prison only to never truly be free again…_

Harry knew all too well what it felt like to feel you're living a cursed life where nothing ever goes your way. It was exhausting.  There was never any peace in his life that wasn't but fleeting.  _Rest in Peace_.  _Requiescat En Pacem.  _

In his mind, Harry could imagine he was hearing the beckoning of the veil. It seemed so graceful and welcoming as he recalled how it fluttered as if kissed by a light breeze.  The voices had been so alluring, he recalled; like they held the promise of peace just beyond that fluttering and tattered veil.  _Requiescat En Pacem._

_Sirius is at peace now…he's free and no longer running from anyone…he can't be judged for crimes he never committed and all that peace and promise of the veil was now his._  _Requiescat En Pacem.  _

Harry wasn't aware he'd been mouthing the incantation under his breath until he slowly began to be aware of warmth radiating from the wood of his wand and the distant, beautiful, and unearthly sound of Phoenix Song.  The song was grower closer as the wood in his hand grew warmer still.  He cracked his eyes open and saw that, about a foot beyond the tip of his wand, the glowing golden feather was hovering just above the charger now and, unless it was a trick of his imagination, the tiniest of golden sparks were flickering about the feather.  

He closed his eyes again and heard the ethereal song even louder now.  _Concentrate on Sirius_, he reminded himself.  He couldn't bear the possibility of failing to do this…to do this to honour Sirius…he _had_ to do this the first time.  

The song was building in his ears and he vaguely wondered if it was real or just in his mind.  Behind his closed eyelids, the gold sparks he'd thought he'd seen flying about the feather were dancing and growing brighter.  _Requiescat En Pacem…rest in peace…Requiescat En Pacem.. I hope you've found peace at last, Sirius…Requiescat En Pacem…Requiescat En Pacem…_

The Phoenix Song was glorious as it reached a crescendo.  The song played in harmony with voices; voices that were now rising to give heart and peace of mind, ensuring that Sirius _was_ at rest.  There was a promise of rest…eventual rest and eventual peace.  When the words ghosted over Harry's lips this time, he wasn't sure whose peace he was wishing for more--his or Sirius'.  _Requiescat En Pacem._

The warmth from the surrounding song felt heavy and molten about him and a burst of golden light behind his still-closed eyelids radiated both light and warmth.  Harry felt his wand grow as hot as it had ever been and it felt heavy and solid in his palm.  Harry opened his eyes slowly to see before him, the entire room filled with a dancing golden web of lights that twinkled and pulsed; each connecting to the vibrating feather before him.  The feather was almost now completely scarlet and only the sparks and web of lights about it were still golden.   His eyes wide and mesmerized by the dancing golden lights filling the hall, Harry reached out his wand---only to see a longer stretch of silver barely touch the feather and set off a burst of scarlet and gold flames that nearly licked all the way up to the ceiling.  

Harry had staggered back from the burst of flames and could only let out a weak laugh as he marvelled at the spectacular sight as all the interconnected lines of the webbed golden lights grew bright, pulsing, and then burst into a million more tiny little dancing points of golden light.  The web of interconnected lines was now gone but the golden points of light remained and danced all about the room.  

Harry blinked.  His hair felt windblown and he himself felt breathless.  _I think the light is lit_, he mused to himself in a small voice.  The sword…a small part of his mind remembered.  Harry looked down and his hand, which had fallen to his side and in it, he still held the warm, almost radiantly gleaming Sword of Gryffindor.   He raised his hand to look more closely at the sword that had yet again now for the second time, replaced his own wand.  As he thought on this, the center of the sword glinted with a faint amber glow, as if still cooling from just having been forged in flames.  And then, as Harry wondered briefly where his wand had gone, the sword was now his familiar handle of wood; his wand, warm and light, there in his grip before him.  

A gentle hand on Harry's shoulder made him look up into the twinkling and beaming eyes of Albus Dumbledore who then called out for all to hear, "I believe this Celebration has begun!"  

Harry couldn't help but grin he was so relieved he'd done it.  "Did I do okay?" he asked.

"Perfect, Harry," Dumbledore said, beaming as he looked up at the tiny golden lights still dancing about the hall.  

"I didn't know this would happen," Harry said a bit breathlessly, motioning around to the lights that made him feel like he was _in_ and _amongst_ the enchanted starry ceiling of the Hogwarts Great Hall.

"Neither did I," said Dumbledore with a wink.  At Harry's astonished reaction where he nearly dropped his wand still clutched in his hand, Dumbledore added, "Isn't magic wonderful?  May I?" he asked, gesturing to Harry's wand.  "It is after all the only holly wand we have here to use," he said with another wink.  

Harry handed over his wand to Dumbledore who closed his eyes a few moments, muttered, "_Requiescat En Pacem,_" and touched the wand to the brass charger, which was the base of the foot-tall flame.  The flame surged as Dumbledore touched the wand to the charger and passed on his regards for Sirius' memory.  He returned the wand to Harry with a smile and then stepped aside to reveal a gathering queue, starting behind Remus.  Harry handed over his wand to Remus next who, taking several moments longer than Dumbledore, followed suit.  

One after another, Harry handed over his wand as Order members, friends of Sirius, stepped forward to send their fondest memories off in a tribute to him.  They each handed his wand back to him after they were finished, some with a nod of thanks, some a handshake and some waiting until he handed it off again and then embracing him warmly.  

Tonks came through with her mother at her side, each taking their turn and were then followed by Moody.  McGonagall was next and surprised Harry when she embraced him firmly, only briefly before sniffing once and then turning away.   The Weasleys all came through together as a grinning and barely-not-boisterous group of red heads.  Ginny was clinging to Ron's arm as she struggled to drag him down to her so she could whisper into his ear.  Ron looked slightly annoyed at her but was still grinning, his earlier frustrations now seemingly forgotten.  Hermione was with them, quieter and the only non-redhead of the bunch but as Harry saw her again, he thought that her stunning crimson robes, which would almost always seem striking, now almost seemed to blend in amongst the loudly coloured twins and all the red hair.   

Ron, beaming his toothy grin and shaking his head, took Harry's wand as Hermione moved to the next in line.  She bit her lip as she met Harry's eyes and before he knew it, her arms were flung around his neck and she was squeezing him nearly as tight as Mrs. Weasley just had.  "You were brilliant!" she rushed out as she held onto him for dear life.  "_It_ was brilliant!  Beautiful!  _Oh, Harry_!"  She had a death grip on him and didn't seem to want to let go.  He wasn't really complaining.  

"You're messing up the system, here, Hermione," Ron muttered as he nudged Harry's arm a few moments later. 

Hermione pulled away sheepishly, her eyes shinning at Harry as Ron handed the wand back to him.  But before Harry could hand Hermione the wand, she was reaching up to fiercely hug a very shocked looking Ron.  She swiped at her tears and hugged Harry once more before kissing him on the cheek and finally taking his wand.  Harry watched her have to take a deep breath to settle herself before she concentrated on the task at hand.  Beside him, Ron laughed at her and nudged Harry as he mouthed, "_Barmy_!" before he grinned and headed back around the queue.

The burst of light from Hermione's spell brought Harry's attention back to her and she waited now, albeit with much fidgeting, until he'd passed on the wand to Ginny.  Hermione hugged him again and she whispered, "You are so beautiful."

Harry laughed and said, "I think that's my line."

Hermione just smiled, pulled his ear down to her mouth and whispered, "No--_you_ are beautiful.  _I love you_."

He was still dazed after several other people had moved through the line and finally, Harry saw the end of the queue and barely stifled a wary smirk.  The twins had doubled back around and were now at the rear of the line, grinning and attempting to look innocent--something far beyond their capabilities.  It was enough to strike fear into Harry's heart.

"Didn't you already come through here once," Harry asked with his eyes narrowed as he took his wand back from the last person.  

The twins just stood there grinning.  

"We've prepared an honorary Wheeze for tonight," Fred said.  (His robes that awful flaming 'magenta'.)

"It's part of our _Marauder_ line," George offered, turning to Fred.  "Open up, dear brother."  He held out a small square chocolate and said, "Behold!  Padfoot Petite Fours!"  He dropped the confection into Fred's mouth and with a _pop_! Fred turned into a large bear-like black dog.  

"_Woof_!" the dog barked, trying to jump up onto Harry who was laughing and trying to keep from getting knocked over.  A few moments later and another _pop_! returned Fred.  Fred was sprawled out upon the floor as the transfigurative hex wore off and shook his head wildly, batted at an ear once with his hand, and then crawled off to the side of the hall to the sound of uproarious laughter.  

"Er, needs a wee bit of tweaking," George said with his forefinger and thump pinched together.  He slapped Harry on the back then and said, "Ah, looks like Dumbledore brought his very own band!"  

Dumbledore, off in one corner, was unpacking a variety of full sized musical instruments from a small shoebox much to the amazement of the Grangers who were beside him.  A piano was now out of the box and three violins were set on the floor in succession before they each stood up and walked themselves over to the piano and began warming up.  A small flock of flutes flew out of the box and began piping short scales as they too warmed up.  Mrs. Granger was laughing as Dumbledore now pulled out an enormous bass, which then waddled over and took its place.  Dumbledore had indeed brought his very own chamber orchestra.  

"Not bad, Misters Weasley," Professor McGonagall said as she tucked away her wand and Fred looked gratefully at her to be rid of his canine twitch.  

"Thanks, Professor," Fred said.  His eyes lit then across the room at the buffet table were guests were lining up and he said, "Wow--I could go for a drumstick!" and then loped off.  

McGonagall frowned but George just laughed.  "Don't worry Professor, I double charmed his Wheeze to keep coming back with all these little tricks.  He doesn't know about that."  He held out his hand to Harry then.  "Petite Four?"  

"Pass," Harry said resolutely.  

George frowned. "Aw come on, I promise it only lasts a half-minute!"  Harry snapped his mouth shut tight and shook his head.  George then caught sight of someone else and called out, "Oi! Neville!" and set off in search of new test product prey.  

"You've got to admit they're rather talented when they care," said Charlie who sauntered up now to Harry and McGonagall.  "Right, Professor?"  

McGonagall, with a pride in her eyes, said, "With those two it was never a question of talent but of dedication to the _assigned_ work.  If I had given them credit for every _clever_ bit of magic they'd done, well, _that's_ another story."  She sighed exasperatedly and excused herself.

"Well," Charlie said shaking his head as he watched the twins try.  "Transfiguration certainly has its place beyond what I ever imagined when I was in her classes, eh, Harry?"  He nodded as Fleur approached and came up to give Harry a hug. 

"These lights are _magnificent_, 'Arry!" she said gesturing towards the ceiling which still twinkled and sparkled with glimmering golden points of light.  "Zey are simply beautiful!" she said as she tossed her long, silvery hair back over her shoulder.  "Do you not think, Charlie?" she said beaming.  

Charlie laughed.  "It was spectacular," he said nodding.  "I thought Mum would keel over from the excitement."  Fleur threw back her head and laughed her tinkling laugh as she rested one hand on Harry's arm and one on Charlie's.  Her robes were a vibrant forest green with white and gold trimmings and had a neckline that plunged so deep that Harry felt he had to make an excuse for looking in the general direction.

"That's a beautiful necklace, Fleur," he said gesturing to a sparkling green gem on a delicate gold chain.  

"This?" she said, fingering the jewel at her throat fondly.  "It was a Christmas gift from Bill," she said beaming again.  She began to rattle off the properties of the stone and how wonderful Bill simply was when the man himself showed up with two glasses of punch.

"Talking about me, I presume," Bill said as he handed one glass to Fleur.  

"Yes," she said kissing him on the cheek.  "'Arry was asking about this wonderful pendant you gave moi."  

Bill grinned at her.  "_Moi_ is very happy you like it."

Charlie faked a gag and then had to make a show of clearing his throat as Fleur frowned at him.  "A-hem!  Er, yes, so, Fleur--how is your friend, er, Bernadette, was it?"  He looked to Harry and explained.  "Fleur has a friend who works with a friend of mine who was in dragon keeper training with me.  The bloke fell for a muggle girl--French, of course," he said with an overly deferential nod to Fleur and Bill.  Left the camps to become a zookeeper.  But I suppose, he does still get to work with animals and it's common enough that wizards branch off into that field, pretending to just be muggles with a certain, er, _gift_ for animals.  How are our little ferrets doing then, any word?" he asked Fleur with a grin.  

"I saw Bernadette when I went home for zee holidays," Fleur said sipping her punch delicately.  "She says they are unruly at times but nothing she cannot control."  

Bill and Charlie exchanged amused glances and sniggered.  Charlie nodded over to Harry and said, "What'd I say?  Is transfiguration handy or what?  Who needs a prison when--"  

"_Charlie_!" Bill hissed.  

"What?" he said, shrugging.  "I think Harry probably knows more than we do."  Harry didn't yet but he was trying very hard to put this odd conversation together quickly.

"Bill groaned and scowled at Charlie.  "No you dolt!  Don't you remember that we were told--we should each _only know so much_?  _Fleur_ didn't know what you basically just spelled out to her!"

Fleur patted Bill's chest consolingly.  "Darling, I shall forget what I have heard," she said as she winked at Harry.  

Harry then felt an arm then snake possessively around his own and he saw that Hermione, with a glass of punch in one hand, had now latched onto him.  She kissed his cheek before she saying in an overly bright voice, "How wonderful to see you again, Fleur!"

Fleur nodded graciously and said, "It is a pleasure to see you, too, 'Ermione.  So, 'Arry, Bill was telling me earlier that the sword you used to light your Life Light was one that you were given the night of your induction into the Order, yes?"  

A loud crash behind Harry made them all jump and spin around.  A full plate of food and a bottle of butterbeer had crashed to the floor and Ron, eyes wide and mouth agape, could only sputter, "_WHAT_?"

~          *          ~          *          ~          *          ~          *

NOTE: As usual, I will remind you that there is a Yahoo group for this fic.  The group name is HP_AoF and a link to the site can be found on my bio page.  ~~~Cheers~~~


	42. Chapter 45 Spilling Secrets

**Chapter 45.  Spilling Secrets**

Fleur nodded graciously and said, "It is a pleasure to see you, too, 'Ermione. So, 'Arry, Bill was telling me earlier that the sword you used to light your Life Light was one that you were given the night of your induction into the Order, yes?" 

A loud crash behind Harry made them all jump and spin around. A full plate of food and a bottle of butterbeer had crashed to the floor and Ron, eyes wide and mouth agape, could only sputter, "_WHAT_?"

*~*~*~*

"Thank you ever so much, _Fleur_," Hermione said acidly just as a loud series of shots, followed by a resounding _bang_! erupted from the opposite side of the hall.  Harry, only tearing his eyes from Ron when Ron himself turned towards the noises, saw that Fred and George had just set off a small crate of their fireworks and had begun a pyrotechnic show.    

Red and gold sparklers were whirling around, sending off sparks of light that mingled amongst the still-present golden points of light twinkling above.  Purple rockets were shooting off from the crate, leaving a trail of silver stars behind them and shocking pink Catherine wheels (that coincidentally matched the color of Fred's robes) were whizzing like miniature saucers from the crate.  

Harry felt himself being led off to the side and then noticed that Hermione, steering him by his arm, had also latched onto Ron and was leading them to a set of doors from the hall.  She didn't get them all the way out of the hall though before Ron pulled loose and indignantly protested, "Hey!" 

"Shut it!" Hermione snapped.  "You're just lucky the twins had the good timing to divert attention from your oncoming little snit!" she said waving about at the room increasingly filling with fireworks whose noise was currently covering up the fact they were shouting at each other.    

Ron, quickly turning an angry shade of red, opened his mouth to speak but Hermione whipped out her wand towards him and screamed, "SHUT UP!" before Ron could speak.  "You will NOT ruin this night!" she shouted.  

Ron looked taken aback at her vehemence.  Hermione then took two quick strides towards Ron, gathered the front of his robes and, in a low voice Harry could barely hear over the noise, said, "_This_ is a night of Celebration and _Harry's_ night to enjoy himself and his friends.  So help me _god_, Ron, if you insist on making trouble, I will not hesitate to hex you blind, deaf and dumb and then feed to a giant tank of spiders!"  

"Hermione," Harry said reasonably, not used to trying to be the voice of reason between the three.  

She dropped her hand from Ron's robes and turned to Harry as she said, "You handle him how you see fit.  But I just wanted to make it clear that this is _not_ the time for one of Ron's hard-done-by fits of indignation!"  

Harry took a deep breath and could not argue that he was at least pleased that Hermione had managed to extract them from the middle of hall where they might have quickly become the center of attention even amongst all the other fireworks.  Hermione then nodded once and said, "I'll leave you both to it then.  And remember—_this is_ a party."

But before she could turn to leave, Mrs. Weasley, hands on her hips, stopped her short.  "Ronald!" she exclaimed shrilly.  "How in _blazes_ do you think it's acceptable for you to drop a plateful of food and a whole bottle of drink—_which by the way, I see is not Butterbeer at all!_—in the middle of a formal gathering?  Your brothers are bad enough what with their--" her arms made wild motions all about the room just as one Catherine wheel whizzed by merrily.

"Mrs. Weasley," Hermione interrupted, trying to grab the older woman's arm and lead her away.  "Harry and Ron need to have a short chat--_alone_."  

Mrs. Weasley immediately tried to shirk away from Hermione's grip.  

"No," Ron said, and Harry now saw that Ron was in full scowl mode.  "Did you know, Mum, that Harry here is in the Order?"  Ron glared coolly at his mother who had gone slack at his question and stopped struggling against Hermione's grip.  

"What?  What is going on here?" Mrs. Weasley demanded.  She looked quickly between Harry and Ron.  Harry and Hermione knew very well she'd been worried that Ron would find out he was the only one of the trio not in the Order ever since summer.  

"Why don't _you_ all tell _me_!?" Ron said looking angrily between Harry, Hermione and his mother.  He focused in on Harry and demanded, "_Are_ you in Order?  Is it true?"

"Yes," Harry said simply as Mrs. Weasley gasped and rounded on him.  

She looked like she wanted to smack Harry for telling this to Ron but instead, rounded back towards Ron and said, "Don't _you_ go getting any wise ideas!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ron sputtered.

Mrs. Weasley was doing her best to look down upon her taller son as she pointed her finger and glowered, saying, "Like thinking you can join up with the Order.  I'll not allow it and—"

"Harry did!"

"You're not Harry!" she shouted back.

Ron pulled a disgusted looking face.  "Yes, tell me about it," he spat with a glare at Harry.  

Harry looked quickly over at Hermione whose brow was furrowed.  She exchanged a quick glance with Harry and then tried to interject, "I really don't think this is the time or place for—"

"More secrets?" Ron shot back to her.  He tapped his finger to his mouth in mock thought and said, "Hmm, let me think here, there's this prophecy about Harry that—"

"Who told you about that?" Hermione said in a deathly whisper with her eyes wide.  

Her gaze slid to Harry in question but he could only shake his head as Ron, snorting derisively, said, "Oho! I see yet _another_ person—other than me—knows all about this!"

"Ron," Harry started.

"Don't _'Ron'_ me!"

"I'll _'Ron'_ you all I want!" Harry shouted back.  He schooled his face then and calmly asked, "Now, do you want to ask your questions civilly so you can actually get answers or do just want to rant, rave and then storm off?  Because if that's the case, then you can just leave now—there'll be no ranting and raving here tonight!"  Harry glared hard at Ron.

"Questions!" Mrs. Weasley shrilled, rounding on Harry.  

He turned his glare on her though and said firmly, "I meant from _none of us_ when I said there'd be no ranting."

Mrs. Weasley snapped her mouth shut and took a deep breath, her chest puffing up as if she were preparing to let loose a string of chastisements.  

"How long have you been in the Order?" Ron asked coolly before his mother could begin to spout.  

Mrs. Weasley started to say, "I think this—"

But Harry cut her off as he answered, "Since summer." 

Ron shifted from one foot to the other, crossing his arms and grinding his jaw to keep his mouth shut.  He lost the battle though and threw up his arms as he exclaimed, "Anything else start this summer that I should know about?"  He started to tick off on his fingers as he recounted, "You got to join the Order, you started to shag Hermione—"

"_Ronald Weasley_!" his mother admonished with a backhanded swat.  

"Excuse me?" Hermione snapped indignantly with a dangerous gleam in her eye.

"This has nothing to do with Hermione, Ron, so just leave her out of it," Harry said warningly through gritted teeth.

Ron mimicked Harry as he parroted in a high voice, "_Nothing to do with Hermione_!"  He huffed then and stepped challengingly towards Harry as he asked, "You're telling me she _doesn't_—that even _then_, she didn't know_ all these secrets_?  You're telling me you _weren't_ shagging her then?"

"_Why you little—_" Hermione started in and advanced towards Ron but was cut off by Harry stepping between them.

"You're toeing a very dangerous line," Harry warned with a pointed finger.  

Ron snorted as he said, "_Please_—how many other secrets do you keep?  Why even _bother_ with the charade we're friends?"

A loud _bang_! from a firework exploded around the same instant that something snapped inside Harry.  He was getting very close to losing his self-control and he got right in Ron's face as he said, "Let me give you a news flash, _Ron_—when you find out there's something no one's told you, it's not always _about_ you!  And if it _is_ something that hasn't specifically been told to you, and you happen to blow a gasket when you find out about whatever it is—that's probably the very damn reason no one wanted to tell you in the first place!"  

Ron's scowl was faltering as Harry picked up steam in his verbal attack.  "Get a grip on yourself and stop being an unreasonable, insufferable, arse!  Hermione and I could have told you we were seeing each other much sooner if you hadn't been so spiteful and insistent upon holding a grudge against her for _not_ fancying _you_!  I could have told you about us being in the Order if it wasn't a done deal that you'd be jealous and never shut up about being the one left out!  Tell me one good reason why I should have told you about all this sooner?  Is it even _possible_ that you would _not_ have blown up no matter when or how you found out?  Is it?"

Ron sputtered as he tried to keep huffing and not let his fright at Harry's anger show.  "Well that's just…completely off the point…"

"Then what IS your point?" Harry demanded with a snarl.  Ron gaped and couldn't find anything to say.  "You want to know what you joining the Order would get you?  You think you'd suddenly know _everything_ that went on and know all these _fabulous_ secrets?  THINK AGAIN!  You're already as much in the Order as most anyone else in this room!  The Order isn't some democracy that goes over every little detail with every little member and then votes on each and every little action—you don't get to know _anything_ at all necessarily!"

"That's right!" Mrs. Weasley shouted, trying to lean around Harry.  

Harry stepped over to block her out and went on, shouting in Ron's face as a set of sparklers whizzed by overhead.  "You think you'd get to DO things?!  Well, I've asked you—and it was indeed a request on behalf of the Order—to _do_ something and you haven't done a damn thing on it!" Ron made a confused face and Harry shouted, "House unity!  The DA!  Getting more than just three Slytherins to join!  That's been your one and only mission and you've failed to even try!"

Ron stepped backwards, away from Harry and backed right into a wall.  "That's not true!" he protested.  He looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione and said, "The Slytherins don't want anything to do with us any more than we want anything to do with them!  You only got those two girls because they fancy you!  And Hermione—" he scowled at her, "—probably only got Zabini because she tarted herself up!  _Everyone_ says—"

_CRACK_!

A bright explosion of whirling sparklers erupted overhead as Harry's fist struck Ron's jaw.  A second jet of blue light struck Ron in the face and his mouth snapped shut; his lips sealing themselves together with a silver zipper.  

Harry, even though his right hand was stinging madly, was clutching the front of Ron's robes and had him lifted up against the wall.  Hermione, her wand out to indicate it was her who had hexed Ron's mouth shut, stalked forward and threateningly pointed her wand at Ron's face.  

"_Don't you EVER speak of me again_!" she hissed at Ron as Harry held onto him.  

Harry felt tugging at one arm and Mrs. Weasley was there, shrieking, "Harry!  _Don't hurt him!_  Let _me_ deal with him!"  

Another hand tugging at his other side revealed Charlie, pale and looking a bit unsettled, "Let him go, Harry.  Let him go," he said quietly as the room lit up with yet more flashes of light and several people ooh'd and ahh'd.  

Harry let Ron drop back down from where he was held up against the wall.  The anger was roiling through his veins as he kept replaying Ron's insult to Hermione.  _He'll pay for that_, Harry vowed to himself.

As Harry backed away at Charlie's insistence, Mrs. Weasley grabbed Ron by one ear and made to tug him away and out the door.  Hermione, however, still had more to say.  "Just one minute," she snarled, still brandishing her wand at Ron.  "You listen up and you listen well.  You want to know _why_ I would never fancy someone like you?  You want to know the _difference_ between you and Harry?  THIS!  Your complete lack of maturity!  You're a selfish, lazy, jealous, chauvinistic _arse_ who always whinges when he doesn't get things the easy way!  You're an _awful_ friend—look at you!  Only _you_ would be selfish enough to ruin this night for Harry!  ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"  

"Hermione," Charlie said, now trying to restrain Hermione as she leaned forward towards Ron, snarling and screaming her words.  

Harry suddenly realized he could hear the scuffing of Ron's feet as his mother led him by the ear out of the hall; small noises of protest coming from his zippered lips.  Only after Ron and Mrs. Weasley disappeared around the door, did Harry turn and realize the fireworks had died down now, just in time for every face to be staring across where Harry, Hermione and Charlie remained.   

Luckily one of the faces was Dumbledore who, with raised eyebrows, promptly waved his wand at his assembled animated orchestra so that a lively waltz now filled the silent hall.  Harry, feeling the need to go on about this party as if the night hadn't just been ruined, quickly straightened his robes and walked over to a shaking Hermione.  "Dance with me," he said as he offered his hand to her.

She grabbed it automatically and he winced at the burst of pain in his knuckles.  "Oh, Harry," Hermione said looking at his hand now.  "We should heal that."

"Not now," he said, shaking his head and leading her with his other hand now out to the center of the floor where Fred and George were giving them concerned looks.  "Just dance with me," he pleaded again as he placed one hand upon her back and, with his injured right hand, loosely held her left.   

If they could just pretend like nothing had happened, then at least everyone else could go on to enjoy the night.  He could suffer through one dance with his hand throbbing.   Hermione must have understood because she threaded her free arm around his neck, her fingers curling into the back of his hair, and, as they began to move in rhythm to the music, they each relaxed considerably.  

"Of all the times," she said dejectedly as her one hand caressed Harry's injured one.  

Harry sighed deeply and closed his eyes.  "You don't even know.  Remember how you heard me yelling earlier in my room?  That was the twins I was yelling at."  Hermione looked questioningly at Harry.  "They were talking openly about the prophecy and what they knew about it because they assumed that Ron and the others would know."

"You're joking," Hermione said flatly, stopping completely.  

Harry shook his head and urged her to keep moving.  "Nope.  So Ron was already ticked that there was some secret he didn't know about.  I lashed into the twins."

"And well you should have!" Hermione said.  She snapped her mouth shut before her voice rose too high and they both looked around to see if anyone had heard.  Several other pairs were now dancing in the center of the floor like them and only Professor Dumbledore, dancing with Andy Tonks, seemed to be paying them any mind.  

Harry just shook his head.  "I feel like I don't even care right now what he thinks.  I mean it's one thing to have hurt feelings—like me last year when the two of you were named prefects.  Sure I felt hurt just because I was left out of something and wondered why not me.  But you didn't see me go off in a huff about it—and I was tetchy as could be last year!"  As they moved in slow and steady circles, not even conscious of the steps, the music seemed to actually be calming Harry's nerves.  "But Ron now, well, I can't even be moved to feel too bad for him when he goes off and deliberately says things like—" Harry just shook his head and looked down at Hermione.    "You know he says those things just to get to you, don't you?  He doesn't mean it."  

Hermione looked up at Harry.  "You're already defending him," she said incredulously.

"No, no, it's not that," Harry rushed to say and then laughed shortly.  "In fact, I'm well ticked at him for what he said.  But you, _you_ shouldn't let what he said get to you.  _No_ one believes what he said—in fact he—he probably just said it because he _wishes_ it were true and that you really were such an awful person.  Then he probably thinks it would be easier to not be so jealous of us."

"You think?" Hermione said, worrying her lower lip and looking down.  

Harry pulled her closer to him and now wrapped both arms around her waist.  "Yeah, I think it's possible.  If I make _one_ comment about you—not that, you know—er, I mean something like 'Hermione's really one about that Potions essay' or something.  Anyway, if I say _one_ small thing—even just like mentioning that you want to study in the library later or such, Ron, since we've been together, will always latch onto that and start in on you.  I _hate_ that.   It's like he's just looking for some weakness between us to exploit and like he's just trying to get me to agree with him that you're—this isn't helping make you feel better is it?"  

Hermione laughed and sniffed as she let her head fall forward onto Harry's shoulder.  "Was that your point?  To make me feel better?"

"Er, well, I think, but, oh yes—I was trying to explain that I think he's just jealous or at least still bitterly spiteful about us.  And you know, it's not even you that I think he's so jealous of.  Actually, I've often gotten the feeling that it's _me_ he wishes he could be with more—I mean not in _that_ way.  But you know, just _hang around_ with more.  I think he's actually jealous that you're closer to me than he is."

Hermione raised her head and looked at Harry consideringly.  "You know," she said.  "You might be right on that."

"Well, whatever," Harry said dismissively and he moved them around faster to meet the increased tempo of the music.  "He's not getting off without apologies to both of us—you especially.  He just better hope it's not too late by the time he gets around to it.  Either way, I refuse to let him ruin this night."  Harry tried his best to smile at Hermione but winced as his hand throbbed painfully yet again as he moved it up her back.  

Hermione pulled his hand in front of her and held it gently as she examined it.  "You're lucky you didn't get caught in my crossfire when I hexed him, you know."  Harry just grunted as she pressed on an extremely painful spot that he could see was already looking a bit swollen and bruised.  The music ended then and Hermione gave Harry a stern look as she said, "Come on and let's sit down so I can heal your hand.  Besides, I think Professor Dumbledore wants to interrogate you as to what just happened."

As they walked from the center of the floor to one of small tables along the far side of the hall, Harry saw the Grangers watching them closely.  "Oh great," he muttered. 

"What?"

"Your parents saw everything.  Great.  Now they probably think I'm some brawling hooligan that attends St. Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."  Hermione just gave him an amused look as she pulled out a chair at one unoccupied table.  "Nevermind," Harry muttered.  "Private joke with the Dursleys."

Hermione just nodded, not sure whether he was serious or not.  "Well, here comes Professor Dumbledore—like I said.  Why don't I just go over and talk to my parents quick?  I'll be right back."

She left just as Harry, in the act of sitting down, inadvertently leaned on his stinging hand, causing him to utter a curse.  

"Would you like me have a look at your hand, Harry?" Dumbledore asked as he approached congenially.  

Harry motioned for him to take a seat and reluctantly held out his hand for inspection.  

Dumbledore, without a word, took it in his own aged hands and peered through his half-moon spectacles at the swollen and bruised knuckles.   With one hand, he ghosted it over Harry's, as if pushing around some invisible layer.  It felt to Harry like each time Dumbledore moved his hand over his own, that something moved around inside his hand.  Finally, he realized, the pain was subsiding and he could even see that the swelling was going down.  

"The bruising will remain for a day or so, I believe," Dumbledore said with a nod as he let Harry's hand drop to the table.  He then peered over his glasses intently at Harry, obviously preparing to speak.  

"You know, Potter," Moody said as he sidled up to the table and dropped down unceremoniously into a chair.  "The wonderful thing about being a wizard is that you can attack a person or teach 'em a lesson without getting your own hands dirty."  He nodded over at Harry's hand.  "It's why they give you a wand."

Harry just made a sour face at Moody.  "Don't even ask," Harry said pre-emptively when he saw Dumbledore draw breath to open his mouth.  "Ron found out some secrets that were being kept from him just because of how we suspected he'd react and sure enough—he reacted."  

Dumbledore looked serious at this and asked, "Secrets of what nature?"

"Well, he knows, thanks to the twins, that the prophecy from the Ministry has something to do with me and that everyone in the Order knows something about it.  Then he just overheard Fleur say something about me being in the Order.  The rest—well, apparently he's still holding a grudge about some other things that I thought he was over.  Guess I was wrong."

Moody grunted as he unscrewed the top of his hip flask and then took a swig.  "Arthur went out now to go find Molly and Ronald.  Bill said something about Charlie having a loose mouth, too—what was that about, you know?"

Harry rolled his eyes.  It really wasn't a very good day thus far for being a Weasley.  Now, as Harry recalled Charlie's words about transfiguration being useful, his asking about a friend of Fleur's who worked at some zoo with some ferrets, and the comment about who needed prisons when you could transfigure—Harry could put them all together and he was getting a pretty shrewd idea of what it all meant.  And that idea now made him laugh out loud.  

As Dumbledore raised his eyes in question, Harry, laughing, said, "Well, I believe I can now guess where the captured Death Eaters are being kept.  He mentioned a friend of Fleur's and transfigured ferrets—oh, I can't _believe_ what you must have done!"

But Harry was stopped short by a very serious look on Dumbledore's face.  "Harry—who heard this?  To whom was Charlie speaking to when he said this?"  

The smile faltered from Harry's face.  "Fleur, obviously.  Bill, too.  Myself.  Then Hermione came over but I don't know if she heard anything about it.  And then, well, that 's when Fleur mentioned my induction into the Order and Ron dropped his plate.  Why?"

Moody and Dumbledore exchanged a look and Moody then asked, "You want me to have a word with our boy Charlie?  I think he needs a reminder about how to keep his mouth shut."

"Perhaps that would be wise," Dumbledore said with a nod.  "And I," he said as he rose from the table, "shall do some investigating.  Harry," he said as he looked down, "I trust you realize that the secrecy as to the whereabouts of these individuals is of the utmost importance.  I've taken great care to ensure no one, save myself, could give away their location.  Please—do keep all you know on this to yourself."

"Of course, sir," Harry said.  So much for asking if anyone had bounced around Lucius Malfoy after he'd been transfigured into a ferret. 

Harry made a point then to move about and mingle with the guests.  He did his best to forget about the earlier confrontation with Ron and was pleased to see everyone having a good time.  While he was filling up a plate at the buffet table, Bill came up beside him.

"Sorry about earlier," Bill said apologetically as he also grabbed an empty plate to fill up.  "Fleur didn't realize anyone would be here who didn't know you were who you are.  Mum should have known Ron would react like that."

Harry just waved it away; he just wanted to forget about it and move on.  "He'll get over it.  Eventually.  Have your mum or dad come back from wherever they went to have it out with Ron?"

Bill shook his head.  "Haven't seen them.  Charlie got dragged off into a corner with Moody.  I think he's getting an earful about something."

Harry just nodded vaguely.  "Did you hear I was in Gringotts this past week?"

"Oh yes," Bill said nodding as he broke off a drumstick from a roast turkey.  "The twins mentioned something and said I should ask you about it.  What was that all about?"

Harry, who after being overheard by Ron earlier, now couldn't shake the habit of looking all about to see who might be listening in, scoped out the room behind them before saying, "I went in with George just for some errands and ended up meeting with their board of governors."

"What?" Bill exclaimed, dropping the gravy ladle with a clatter.  "You're joking!"

Harry just shook his head.  "Nope. Tomorrow, I'll send you a copy of my report on the meeting.  It's too long to go over here.  You can let me know then what you think."

Bill, still shaking his head, just said, "Yeah, I suppose.  Punch?" he asked, offering a glass to Harry.

"Oh no, I'll just have pumpkin juice," Harry said resignedly.  

"You sound like Mumsy, Harry," Tonks said brightly and almost knocking over two different candlesticks as she grabbed the pitcher of pumpkin juice.  "She's all on about not drinking anything alcoholic tonight."  Tonks rolled her eyes.  "I think she's just dedicated to being difficult.  So, you gonna dance with me soon?  Remus keeps slipping away before I can corner him, that sly dog."  

"Er," Bill gave Harry an apologetic grin as he popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and sauntered away.  "Maybe not right now--I've got to eat first."  Harry held up his plate as evidence.  

"Great!" Tonks chirruped.  "Ooh!" she said as her eyes lit on something across the room.  "Oh, KINGSLEY!" she bellowed.  She gave Harry a wink and a grin before setting off across the room.  "Shack!  I know you want to dance with me!  Don't shake your head--OY!  I see you trying to hide…"

Harry just shook his head and looked about the room.  Hermione was back in the far corner near the orchestra; she was speaking animatedly with her parents.  _Don't want to head there just yet_.   His eyes continued to rove over the room until he saw Luna looking serenely back at him.  She was seated with Neville who was warily listening to Mundungus Fletcher. 

"Hey guys," Harry said as he made his way over.  "Mind if I join you?"  

"Oh, please do," Neville said quite eagerly as he slid over--away from Mundungus--to make room for Harry.   "So, how's it going Harry?"

Harry just pulled a face and shrugged.  "What can I say?  Everything seems to be going smoothly more or less.  I'm pleased.  How about you?  Are you both enjoying yourselves?" he asked with a nod towards Luna.  

"Oh yes," Luna said nodding.  "The fireworks were brilliant.  Fred and George let us even set off a box ourselves.  Did you see them?  Ours were the rockets with stars.  Ginny helped, too."

Harry looked between them both; Luna looked sincere in her question and Harry wondered if they had missed the fact that he, Ron and Hermione had put on a fireworks display of their own.  "Yeah, yeah I saw them.  They're always brilliant."  

"I saw another fireworks display," said Dung with a sly wink.  "Couldn't miss it and I should thank ye for it.  Molly was ragging on me about smokin', drinkin', breathin'--you know, the usual--until you lot caught her hawk eyes."  He lifted his glass in salute to Harry and drank deeply, a wafting cloud of smoke curling from his mouth as he exhaled.  

"Great," Harry muttered as he cut into a slice of beef Wellington.  He looked apologetically to Neville and Luna and explained: "Ron got shirty about something and I was hoping only Dumbledore and the Weasleys really noticed.  Did everyone see?"

Neville grimaced in commiseration and said, "Well, we saw Ron getting hauled off and away but we weren't sure why.  Ginny saw and took off after him--she left through the other doors."

Dung snorted and looked around the room before he answered in a conspiratorial whisper, "Probably because she found out her ickly baby --who's sixteen at least--wasn't just drinking butterbeer.  I tell you-- the things _I_ was doing when I was a lad that age!  Well, you all can't be as lucky as I but, you might imagine."  He gave a lewd wink to Harry.  "But--eh!  I say Sirius would be right done proud of you drinking it up and being your own man, wouldn't you say?"

"You're probably right," Harry conceded as he took a begrudging drink of his pumpkin juice.  

Mundungus threw back the rest of his drink and, with a put-upon sigh, stood up and excused himself as he muttered something about finding a larger glass.

Harry finally got to eat as Luna began to describe how she wanted to ask the twins about using their patented fireworks in conjunction with her homemade hats that she wore for quidditch games.  She was quite fond of the idea of having her old lion-serpent hat spout silver stars as the lion ripped into the snake.  She also wanted to make rockets shoot from the mouth of the lion when it would roar. 

Harry was just savouring his first mouthful of strawberry trifle when Neville cried out, "No!  Harry--not the trifle!!"  

But Harry had already swallowed.  He looked fearfully at Neville and held his breath as he expected to turn into a Canary or some such animal at any time.  But all Harry felt was a strange tingling at his scalp.  Neville was looking extremely apologetic as he watched just above Harry's head and Luna just looked enthralled.  

Harry reached out and just as Luna gasped excitedly, he felt a strange protuberance sprouting from his head.  

"The horns of the Crumple Horned Snorkack!" Luna exclaimed excitedly.  "Oh, look!"

Harry heard several other people laugh and point at him (Tonks' snicker was unmistakeable).  He quickly turned to the side, pulled out his wand and conjured a mirror before him.  Atop his head, was an impressive set of antlers.  

"Oh, look at Harry!" one of the twins exclaimed.  "We _never_ get Harry!  _Never_!"

"And how appropriate!" George said as he and Fred came up to Harry, grinning, to admire their work.  "Our Stagnificent Strawberry Trifle--a head above the rest!"

Harry tried to glower at the grinning twins but found it difficult as his head wobbled with the added and awkward weight of the antlers.  

"Nice rack, Harry," Fred said with a salacious wink.  

George beamed as he stood up on tip-toe to have a closer look at his work.  "It's another in our Marauder line, Harry.  Don't you like it?"  

Kingsley was walking up now to Harry and looking impressed.  "Didn't Mad-Eye teach you to check _all_ your food for hexes yet?  No?"  

"Ooh! Can I touch your rack?" Tonks said as she reached over and tried to pet Harry's antlers.  

Harry jerked away and again tried to glower as everyone laughed.  But he nearly toppled over from the weight on his head and this only sent everyone off into more laughter.  

"You look like you could pull a sleigh!" someone shouted.  

While Harry was sure this was indeed quite funny for everyone who was watching, it made him feel ungainly and out of control.   He wasn't exactly blaming the twins for this--well, maybe he was.  A bit.  Remus was laughing at him now and he really rather just wished these bloody antlers would go away.  

Tonks had just turned to laugh at some wise crack someone had made and had begun to say, "Too bad he's not a Metamorphamagus like me--he could just--"

But she was cut off by the twins' chorused shouts of, "Hey!" when Harry reached up and felt the antlers receding.  _Oh thank god!  Go away, go away, go away… _He could feel with his hand as the antlers disappeared completely and a grin broke out on his face.  It was much more funny now that he wasn't trying to keep his head from falling about and teetering right and left. 

"Oy!" Fred said as he smacked George on the arm.  "You made that batch, didn't you?  It's defective!"

"It is not!" George protested.  "I tried it myself before we brought it over!  Even got Neville to try it for me!  It worked for a full twenty minutes!"

"Well you screwed something up, brother mine!"

"Did not!"

"Did to!"

"Not!"

"To!"

"Not!"

"To!"

"To!"

"Not!"

"HAH!  _Gotcha_!"

"Idiot."

"Moron."

"Ugly."

"Oy!  I look better than _you_!"

Harry was being tugged by someone.  He turned as he saw Tonks, her eyes sparkling with her face serious.  "Soooooo…" she said as she waggled her eyebrows.  He hoped she didn't want to dance right now.  "Ever like, oh, say, I don't know, gone like five years without a haircut and never had your hair grow?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he recalled Hermione's interest into this little tidbit about him.  "Why?" he asked warily.  

But Tonks' just beamed and clapped her hands excitedly.  "Try it again!  Try it again!"  She reached over and took a forkful of the trifle and tried to offer it to Harry.

"Are you _mad_?" he shouted as he tried to get away from her.  "I like my head just fine, thank you!"  

"Come on!" she pleaded as she picked up the plate of trifle, still holding the fork, and determinately followed Harry as he tried to escape her.  "I'll try it too!"  

"No way!" Harry shouted as he ducked behind Bill.  But Bill was thinking it'd be more fun to give up Harry and shout out to Tonks that Harry was right here.

Harry Disapparated with a _pop!_ as soon as he saw Tonks spot him.  

"Hermione!" he said breathlessly as he reappeared in front of her, her parents, and Professor McGonagall.  "Stop Tonks!" he pleaded.

Hermione wasted no time before she stepped in front of Harry and said, "Stay behind me."  Tonks then _popped!_ in front of Hermione and almost sent the plate of trifle clattering to the floor before she recovered. "Whatcha got there, Tonks?" Hermione asked innocently.  

Harry, his hands on Hermione's shoulders as he crouched behind her, looked up innocently over at Tonks who was watching with amusement.  "Need a girl to hide behind, oh hero who conquered the Dark Lord?"  

"Shut it," Harry pouted.  Tonks grinned wickedly now.  "I need all the help I can get to keep you away from me."

"Hermione," Tonks announced primly.  "I do believe I shall require your assistance.  Are you aware of what your wizard here just did?"  

Hermione, looking amused, just answered, "Well, it looked like Harry finally got had by one of the twins' infamous tricks."

"Indeed he did," Tonks agreed.  "However, he _some_how managed to get out of it well before he should have.  Any idea how _that_ might have happened?"

"Ooh!" Hermione said in understanding, making Harry wince.  

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked as he remained behind Hermione.  

Hermione turned around then, smiling, and said, "Oh, you can trust me, Harry.  Don't worry."  

"Ok," Harry said with a gulp.  "_Now_, I'm worried."  

Tonks laughed heartily and swirled the trifle around on her plate.  "Always knew you were a smart one, Har.  Professor McGonagall!  I think you might be interested in this as well!"

"Oh?" said McGonagall with an arched eyebrow.  Harry just shook his head pleadingly at her.  

"Please Harry?" Tonks begged as she held up a forkful of trifle.

"No."

Her smile fell and she looked crushed.  She set the plate of trifle down on the mantle beside her and dropped her face into her hands.  Harry couldn't believe it; he'd made her cry.  Tonks.  _Cry_.  Tonks was crying.  How could anyone as cheerful as Tonks ever cry?  Harry felt like a heel.  

He began to apologize: "Tonks…I didn't mean to--" But was cut off when three simultaneous flashes of light caught him off guard.  The next thing he knew, he was being enervated by Hermione's wand pointed at his chest.  

"You're under three Body-Bind spells right now," Tonks announced smugly.  "And an Anti-Apparition Jinx.  You're not going anywhere.  We've got you right where we want you."

Harry's eyes swivelled in their sockets and he saw Tonks also had her wand pointed at him as did--Luna?  Harry's eyes must have shown his amazement that she had suddenly become one of his 'captors' and she smiled as she shrugged and explained, "Sorry, Harry.  It just sounded liked like fun."

"I'd help you, Harry," Mrs. Granger announced from some place off to the side.  "But I don't have a wand and I can't do any magic."  She didn't sound all that remorseful.  

"Potter," McGonagall said slowly as she moved into Harry's view.  "I've just been told some very interesting things."  

Harry closed his eyes tried to concentrate on breaking the bond holding his body.  He mentally cursed himself for not wearing his dragonhide boots tonight.  He relaxed and blocked out what they were saying around him as he gathered his strength around him.  He'd have to contract somehow and try to burst through these bonds with a surge of magic. 

"Harry," Hermione's voice said softly into his ear.  His eyes snapped open.  Tonks was watching him with a smug smile on her face.  

"Harry," Hermione said again.  "Please, look at me."  She moved around to stand just in front of Harry and crouched down so she was on his eye level as he was currently bound to a chair.  When he met her eyes, he saw she looked unmistakably torn and, as if to confirm this for him, she even began to worry her lower lip.  "I'll make a deal with you," she offered.  

Harry really couldn't see what choice he had at the moment.  

"You're not going to cave, are you?" Tonks shouted from behind Hermione.  

Hermione just looked at Harry and just nodded.  "Harry…I think you might have some ability as a Metamorphamagus," she said as if revealing a huge secret.  

_No_, Harry immediately thought.  _That's impossible.  The number of times I've wished my blasted scar away…no.  Believe me, if I were, this scar would be long gone by now_.  

"_Finite Incantatum_," Hermione whispered apologetically as Luna and Tonks both groaned audibly.  

Harry's arms went slack and his mouth opened.  "You're wrong," he said simply.

But Hermione shook her head like she'd already done her research and decided upon an answer.  

"Potter," McGonagall cut in.  "I was told you were just able to reverse a transfigurative hex on yourself with only willpower.  While Nymphadora's--" Tonks groaned in frustration, "--methods may be lacking in tact, I do believe you are likely to behold some considerable skill at self-transfigurations."  A rare smile graced her face before she said, "And it's quite timely for this to be discovered now as we're due to begin studying this form of transfiguration next term."  

Tonks pouted and held out a forkful of trifle.  "Eat the trifle," she pleaded. "We can both grow horns and then wish them away?  Pleeeeaaassse?"

Harry looked at Tonks' pouting; not completely sure if he could trust her emotions.  "I really don't want any antlers.  Sorry."  

Tonks jutted out her lower lip.  "No one ever wants to play with the Metamorphamagus," she said sullenly.  

McGonagall rolled her eyes at Tonks' juvenile behavior and said, "I'll owl you some assigned reading and some exercises you can begin with while you're still on break, Potter."  And with that, she left them with a nod and left Harry feeling very confused.  

"See?" Hermione said with a hopeful smile as she placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.  "It was a good thing I thought might be true when you mentioned about your hair."

"Great," Harry muttered.  "I get McGonagall complimenting me on some skill and then because of it, I get a whole load of extra homework assigned.  That's great."

Tonks just held out a hand to Harry and said, "Up.  You and I are dancing.  Now."  As it was better than having horns sprout from the top of his head, Harry agreed.  

Tonks kept him dancing for two songs in a row (because the first one they only got out there for half of it) and all the while, gushed about Harry's possibility of being a Metamorphamagus like her.  Of course, she also alternated between pouting about him not letting her play Grow Antlers on Harry.  

After Tonks, Harry was passed around to several women including Fleur (who apologized profusely for spilling Harry's secret to Ron), Mrs. Granger (who assured him that she and Mr. Granger did not think he often went about punching friends at random) and Luna (who claimed she hated dancing but felt obligated to dance at least once with Harry).  

Finally, Harry was allowed to slink off the dance floor.  

"Harry," Hermione waved him over to a table where she sat alone with Neville and Ginny.  

"No more dancing," he said wearily as Luna walked back to the table with him.  "I need a break from moving in circles.  Hey, Gin," he said with a tired nod.  Ginny.  He snapped his head back up.  "Where's Ron?"

Ginny smirked with little humor.  "Playing a game of chess with Professor Dumbledore."

"What?"

Ginny shrugged.  "Don't ask me.  I was told to stay out of it and that it was none of my business."  Harry looked at her sceptically.  "Well of course, I found a way to listen in," she said as if it were plainly obvious.    

"And?"

She tried to look nonchalant about it but couldn't help a look of guilt as she said, "I know you're both in the Order."

Harry looked around the table at Hermione, Neville and Luna.  

"Are you mad at us, too?" Hermione asked Ginny.  

Ginny cocked her head to the side and, tucking a stray lock of red hair behind her ear, shook her head.  "Not really.  If I found out the _three_ of you were in it--then I'd be furious. But, well, Ron's on the outs, too so it isn't that bad."

"And how's Ron taking it all?" Harry asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"Like it's a personal slap in his face," Ginny said simply.  "Mum tried to demand that he come back in here and apologize to you both but that's when Professor Dumbledore stepped in and said something like 'forced apologies are like Unforgivables; they don't do anything unless you mean them'.  Something like that." 

"Where's you mum?" Hermione asked as both she and Harry each looked around the room cautiously.  

"Oh, tending to Professor Snape," Ginny said absently.  "Moody came and got her, asking for her help because he was injured or something.  They're in the kitchen I think."

Harry, yet once again, sat stunned as another Weasley had just let out a secret of the Order.  

"S-_Snape_?" Neville finally managed to sputter.  "What's _he_ doing here?" he asked in a horrified voice.  

*~*~*              ~          *          ~          *~*~*


	43. Chapter 46 The End of a Celebration

****

**Chapter 46.  The End of a Celebration**

"Where's your mum?" Hermione asked as both she and Harry each looked around the room cautiously.  

"Oh, tending to Professor Snape," Ginny said absently.  "Moody came and got her, asking for her help because he was injured or something.  They're in the kitchen I think."

Harry, yet once again, sat stunned as another Weasley had just let out a secret of the Order.  

"S-_Snape_?" Neville finally managed to sputter.  "What's _he_ doing here?" he asked in a horrified voice.  

Snape.  Snape was back.  Snape was here.  _Injured?_  Snape was injured.  _Good._  Harry immediately chastised his one lone gloating inner voice.  

"Where are you going?" Hermione asked as Harry rose grimly from his seat.  Neville still looked white as a sheet and Ginny was oblivious to the reactions both boys had from her mentioning of Snape.   

"I'll be back," Harry said distractedly as he waved, indicating Hermione should remain in the hall.  As he strode out the hall, he could vaguely hear Neville incredulously sputtering Snape's name yet again.  

Once out in the hallway, Harry Apparated below to the entry hall.  The last time Snape had had contact with anyone in the Order had been the day before the attacks when he'd come to warn them and give them a tip to stake out the Crofton home.  That had also been the day that Harry and Snape had both lost their cool and briefly duelled in the entry hall where Snape unwittingly used the Furious Curse on Harry, bringing about an unexpected turn of events which Dumbledore had suspected drew Voldemort's mind to Harry's through the scar connection.   Harry hadn't wanted to acknowledge it, but a very reluctant voice in his head admitted he had been concerned for Snape's welfare since the incident where Voldemort was likely to have seen through Harry's own eyes that Snape had detoured from his Death Eater assignment to the Order headquarters.  

As Harry quickly descended the narrow stairway down to the kitchen, he could hear the snarling voice of Snape.  "Get out!"

"Oh, Severus!" Mrs. Weasley chastised.  "I'll just clean you up and—"

"Molly, I think we've got it covered now that we've got the book.  You can return to the party I'd say," Moody said as Harry paused outside the door to the kitchen for a moment.  "Perhaps you'd want to just pop up there and save yourself the trip."  Harry was quite positive that Moody was trying to detour Mrs. Weasley away from Harry for the time; he was really quite grateful. 

"Oh no," she protested.  "I still need to get through to Ronald that we will _not_ be leaving here tonight until he, Harry and Hermione have all made up and dully apologized to each other.  Then I need to find Ginny and make sure _she_ hasn't gotten any wild ideas—" She stopped abruptly as Harry pushed open the door and stepped into the kitchen.  Mrs. Weasley stood immediately in front of him.   She took a deep breath and said, "Harry, there you are!  Now listen—"

"I'll be meeting with the entire Weasley family before any of you leave here tonight," Harry said to cut her off.  "There're a few things everyone seems to need reminding of."

She then grabbed Harry's arm, nodded briskly and said, "Well then let's go on now.  We can get it all sorted out and—"

Harry pulled free and saw Moody standing beside a hunched over form in a chair near the fireplace.  He never took his eyes off of the hunched over form as he ground out, "I'll go when I'm ready."  Right about now, Mrs. Weasley was not someone for whom he had a great deal of tolerance.  A very large part of him wanted to blame her for insisting that Harry and Hermione keep the secret of their being in the Order from Ron and Ginny.  The same part of Harry wanted to also blame her for not being able to control her own son and for failing to raise Ron with the good sense to not have a selfish snit in the middle of a Celebration where he verbally attacks the host.  

"Molly," Moody's gruff and tired voice said from near the fireplace.  "You ought to return upstairs.  Potter, over here."

Harry walked past her at once, not even stopping to look back and see her frowning deeply before she left muttering.  Snape, his curtain of greasy ink-black hair shrouding his face in matted clumps, was hunched over an old, worn book that was propped up on a short wooden side table.  He was using one hand to tilt the book towards the firelight and was decidedly not looking up.

"I heard you were injured," Harry said almost accusingly; his eyes fixed on the form of Snape.

Moody cursed. "The Weasley girl, no doubt?" he said exasperatedly.  Both of his eyes rolled in their sockets.  "That was less than five minutes.  First Charlie, now her—can _none_ of them keep their mouths shut?"

"No, they can't," Harry answered shortly.  "That's why I'm meeting with them—all of them.  I'm not the only one she told."  Before Moody could ask to hear more, Harry turned towards the dark form of Snape and asked, "So?  Are you?"

"_Leave_, Potter," Snape said thickly and without his usual alacrity.  

"Did he know?  Did he see anything?" Harry asked immediately and Snape seemed to stiffen.

Not looking at Harry and still determinedly facing away, Snape tiredly and with a bit of a slur, said, "Stop blathering, Potter, and leave.  You're impeding my will to live."  Harry just looked to Moody for an explanation.  

Moody just raised his bushy eyebrows as if to ask, "What do you want from me?"  Harry sighed exasperatedly.

"Well, will one of you tell me what's going on?"  Snape looked to be fighting the urge to turn and sneer at Harry.  Harry took a step closer to him and said, "I think it's safe to assume your current condition is something near dire if you'd dare to even step foot in this house on this night of all nights.  I doubt you're here for the Celebration...although, I suppose _you_ were ready to celebrate the moment you heard--"

"Come on in Lupin," Moody's voice interrupted.  The kitchen door swung open and Remus, his eyes immediately roaming the basement, walked in.  He paused when he saw Harry standing just behind Snape's chair and glaring at the greasy curtain shrouding their spy's face.

"Molly's going on about how you're a real sight, Severus," Remus said tentatively.

"Blast!" Snape slurred as he slammed the book shut.  "Can that woman _ever_ shut her gob?!"

"No," Harry spat bitterly.  "And it appears to be genetic tonight."  That comment sufficiently caught Snape off guard so much that he actually turned to gape at Harry.  This, in turn, allowed Harry to gape back as he saw Snape's—well, what _had_ been Snape's face.  "What in the..." breathlessly, Harry trailed off.  

One whole side of Snape's face was spattered and smeared with blood but that looked nothing as ghastly as the other side which seemed to be lacking any sort of bone structure whatsoever beneath the bloodied, bruised, and misshapen skin.  The eye socket on that side of his face seemed to have sunken in so far that the eyeball itself was the furthest protruding thing on that side of his face.  Snape's mouth, so often twisted into a sneer and used to form snarling insults was now completely slack on the one side in a garish parody of a smirk.  Greasy hair stuck to the blood smeared face in clumps and it was only when Harry's stare slid over to the relatively uninjured side that he realized this one functioning black eye of Snape's was glaring daggers at him.  

"I'll call Poppy," Remus said at once.  

"No you shall not!" Snape said rising at once from his chair.  He immediately swooned and Harry and Remus both instinctually stepped forward to steady him.  Harry wasn't sure who was most surprised by their moves to aid Snape; Snape or Remus and Harry.  

Remus urged Snape back into the chair and said, "Don't be daft, Snape.  We can't heal that here and you obviously can't go into St. Mungo's like that.  Poppy can be here in—"

"I said no!" Snape protested again.  Harry wondered how on earth it was that Snape was able to even form words and speak coherently with his face the way it was.  "Where's Dumbledore?" he demanded angrily.  

"Said he'd be down shortly," Moody said.  "Isn't there anything else we can get for you?  Is what you needed in that book?"

"No.  So what I need," Snape said testily as spit flew from his misshapen mouth, "is Dumbledore to make me a bloody Portkey!"  

"You're sure—" Remus began uncertainly but stopped when Snape growled and glared at him with his one good eye.  

Harry, whose mind had been flying through scenarios and possible reasons for Snape's injuries and appearance, now asked quietly, "Have you been found out as a spy?  Were you let to leave or did you just escape?"

Snape's garishly lopsided mouth twitched at this and both Remus and Moody looked up at once for Snape's answer.  He gave none.  

"Have you?" Remus asked impatiently.  

Snape stood abruptly and, favouring one leg, faced Remus as he asked, "Have _you_ warned all of_ them_?  Did the message get through that _no one _who would be here now is safe?  _Have they been warned? _They're all gathering together all _convenient_ like for you!"

_One by one._  The formidable threat from Voldemort that, with the help of Wormtail, no member of the first war's Order was safe from becoming a target.  Hestia Jones and her family had been the first example of the oath to punish any who would stand against Voldemort.  

"Yes," Harry said as Remus hung his head.  "The message was found.  One by one."

Remus looked older than just a minute ago as he said, "Albus has been trying to decide when the best time to tell everyone would be."

"_Now_, you fool!" Snape snarled.  "What do you think you're waiting for?  Another attack?"

"Now there's a proper time for everything," Remus tried to explain.  "But I don't think a Celebration is the best time to tell everyone that their name's on Voldemort's list."

Snape had flinched visibly at the name and Moody grunted as he said, "We'll be _'Celebrating'_ a whole lot more if we don't give due warning."  It was obvious Moody felt differently than Remus.

Snape made a noise of agreement to this and Remus just shook his head.  "Albus agrees and says there's a time for both vigilance and for mirth--"

"Daft fools!" Snape choked out as he began coughing; hacking coughs that wracked his body and forced Snape to grasp the back of his chair as he struggled to swallow back the fluid in his mouth.  A small trickle of blood escaped from the limp side of his mouth and was quickly wiped away by the back of his already-filthy hand.  Snape glared at Remus and Harry who were both watching him with unconcealed concern for his state.  

"Go get Dumbledore," Harry said quietly and not taking his eyes off Snape.  After a moment where no one moved and the only sounds was Snape's wheezing, Harry turned to Remus and repeated, "Get Dumbledore.  I can't go--I'm not going up there to interrupt him and Ron."    

Remus looked at him for a moment and then nodded and left the kitchen at once.  

Moody stepped forward towards Snape then and asked, "You'll have the spell books you need in your rooms at Hogwarts?"  Snape nodded as he bent over the back of the chair; his head bowed between his arms.  "We could send someone to fetch--"

"No," Snape protested in a hoarse voice without even moving.  It was obvious Snape wanted to be gone from Grimmauld Place at once.  He seemed to believe he'd have all he needed to heal himself once he was able to return to his rooms at Hogwarts.  When Harry had first heard Snape was injured and present here, he had wondered why Snape had came here at all.  It was obvious now though, that Snape could not have Apparated to Hogsmeade and then walked all the way into the castle and down to the dungeons and risk being seen as he was without raising alarm; especially if, as Harry suspected for some reason, Snape was escaping from Voldemort and not merely returning with due leave.  

Again, Harry asked, "Did Voldemort see you here that day?"  Snape looked like he was simultaneously shuddering from the name and trying to pull together the strength to insult Harry.  "Did he see you through my eyes?" Harry asked louder this time.  Snape managed a one-eyed glare.  "I take that as a yes," Harry said shortly.  "Were you allowed to finally leave him tonight or did you have to escape?"

As Harry said the last few words, the door opened and Dumbledore, with Remus following strode quickly into the kitchen.  

"Severus," Dumbledore said at once, "I was beginning to worry about you."  Dumbledore calmly took in Snape's condition without expression and urged Snape to be seated again.  "I think my concerns were not entirely unfounded," he said simply as he tentatively reached a hand out towards the battered side of Snape's face.  Dumbledore's hand jerked back quickly before making contact and he clucked his tongue.  "You have what is needed to end the curse, Severus?"  

Snape nodded as he glared over at Harry, saying, "Yes, Headmaster and I'd like to return myself--" he coughed violently yet again, "--to health--" another few coughs, "--before being subjected to _interrogations_."  The last word was said with as much sneer as he could muster while glaring at Harry.  

"Very well, very well," Dumbledore said nodding as he picked up an empty mug from the side table. Dumbledore enchanted the mug, creating the Portkey without delay.  He handed it to Snape who looked extremely relieved and grateful.  "It will be a minute or two," Dumbledore said.  "Tell me though, Severus--is there anything of immediate concern we should know about Lord Voldemort or his followers?  We can wait until you are healed and rested for your complete report--just anything pressing is all I ask about now."

Weary and beaten, Snape looked up at Dumbledore as he clutched the mug that would transport him to his home.  "The Dark Lord," Snape rasped, "suffered some sort of attack tonight." There was a certain detachment to these words that suggested perhaps even Snape himself didn't quite believe it.  "He collapsed and it was a sufficient diversion for me to leave."  No one could think of how to reply to this news and the opportunity vanished as a sucking sound accompanied the activating of the Portkey.  

"What the hell did that just mean?" Harry asked as he stared at the chair just vacated by Snape.  

Twin snorts came from both Moody and Remus.  Remus muttered, "That's Severus, all right," while Moody just shook his head and growled, "Always likes to have the last word, doesn't he?  Little drama queen..." and then trailed off shaking his head.  

Harry turned to look to Dumbledore for some sort of answer; he half hoped to see Dumbledore be as annoyed as Harry was at Snape's vague and cryptic answers.  But to Harry's dismay, Dumbledore was merely twinkling and nodding his head as if he'd just had something confirmed that he'd suspected all along.  

"What?" Harry said loudly as his narrowed towards Dumbledore.  Dumbledore, smiling and twinkling over the top of his glasses just hummed and laid a finger aside his nose.  "Stop twinkling!" Harry said with exasperation as he threw his hands up in the air.  Moody and Remus both snorted at this with shocked amusement and so Harry turned his glower on them.  "He was right, you know.  If no one's left yet, we ought to get everyone together and warn them about Voldemort's latest hit list.  Celebration or not, I don't think I can justify waiting any longer."  Harry looked challengingly between all three and saw Moody nod at once in agreement.  

"Harry," Dumbledore said as he began what was obviously meant to be a long, exasperating string of wise advice that Harry just did not want to hear.    

Harry spun and faced him with a grim expression.  "First, I'm going to deal with the Weasleys.  There is a bad trend with them tonight and I'm hacked off enough to take them all to task on it.  No," Harry said firmly as Remus began to open his mouth.  "I'm the one who needs to explain why things were the way they were.  I'm the one who should remind them of their responsibilities and _I_ need to clear some things up about me and why I did what I did.  I'll speak with them. Next.  And after that," Harry drew a deep breath, "we should—I—I don't know what to say, but everyone—they need to be warned.  If it ruins the Celebration, so be it.  It's more important people stay alive than enjoy themselves for a night."  

Moody nodded in acknowledgement and said, "I think you're making the right decision."  Moody's magical eye then whirled about and focused upon the ceiling. "I see the twins and the girl up there now skulking about.  I'll go round up that lot for you now, shall I?"  

Harry could just imagine Ginny telling the twins that Snape was here somewhere injured and then the lot of them sneaking around to try to listen in on whatever Snape had to report back on Voldemort.  "Yes," Harry said firmly.  "In the library please."  

Moody left the kitchen and Harry then noticed that Remus looked exceedingly grim with his arms crossed.  "What good would waiting do, Remus?" Harry asked peremptorily.  "I heard what you said before."

"You don't understand, Harry.  You and Moody...not every...Moody always thinks everyone's out to get him.  You—you've known Voldemort's after you since, well...sadly, you're used to it.  But for the others...Harry, it's a tremendous thing for even the members of the Order—other than you and Moody for whom it really changes nothing—to be told they're now on Voldemort's hit list.  I don't think you realize how much this will affect everyone."

"And you think ignorance would be better?" Harry challenged.

Dumbledore spoke then, saying, "Harry, there're reasons either way, we admit.  But you should be made aware that what Remus says is quite true.  The news of the circumstances of the Joneses' deaths will shake many members and I think, while we do need to ensure everyone is on their guard, we also need to prevent panic without due cause."

Harry supposed this was true enough.  There was a big difference between being an Order member and part of a systematic chain of information and support versus knowing Voldemort now knows your name and is planning to execute you and your entire family.  And as he really didn't know what exactly should be said to communicate the increased danger everyone was in, he asked, "Well, what do you think we should say?  I thought this _was_ taken care of?"  At Dumbledore's guilty look, Harry sighed and went on, "All I am saying now is that I think everyone needs to be alerted as soon as possible of the possible dangers they're bound to face.  What do you suggest, Professor?"

Dumbledore twirled one side of his silver mustache with a long finger thoughtfully.  "It was my wish to not ruin anyone's holiday," he said tiredly.

"Harry," Remus said softly as he reached out a hand to Harry's shoulder.  "I'm just remembering how it was last time when we were all beginning to realize someone was giving away inside information.  It was...damning...made you feel helpless."

"And who was it then?" Harry asked rhetorically.  "Wormtail—the same one still giving away the same information he knew then."   _Of course he has new information now...like all about the Burrow and all the Weasleys..._  "Actually," Harry said, biting his lip, "maybe that's what we need to say—give a reminder that Wormtail—who everyone from the old Order knew personally—has surely given away anything and everything he knew about any of them."  

After a moment, Remus said, "Well, it _would_ allow everyone to draw their own conclusion then that they're in danger."  

"Especially after we confirm that Hestia and her family were attacked by Death Eaters."  Dumbledore looked to Remus and said, "Sturgis asked earlier if I had heard the rumor of their deaths.  I think everyone would indeed expect to be told the truth on that.  Perhaps I can start there; relate the truth that her family was killed in a Death Eater attack and then follow that with a reminder that through Peter, no one's identity as a member is safe."

"I think that's about the best way to do this," Remus said nodding.  He checked his wristwatch then and said, "Tell you what, I'll head up and spread the word that no one should leave before we have a small gathering and announcement.  You won't take too long with the Weasleys?" he asked Harry.  

"As long as it takes," Harry said grimly.  Harry watched Remus exit and then turned his narrowed gaze to Dumbledore.  "Are you keeping things from me?"

The twinkle dimmed in Dumbledore's eyes and then flared to full effect.  "Are you keeping things from me, Harry?"  The twinkling blue eyes pulled at Harry's mind and he instinctively blocked any thoughts—especially those of anything he _was_ keeping from Dumbledore—from coming forth, until he realized he couldn't think of anything which he was keeping from him and so he let the word, 'No,' flash forth through his eyes.  

And then, as Dumbledore chuckled and beamed with pride, Harry realized that asking that very question was an extremely tricky way to use Legilimency on a person. It asked a very general question that immediately put a person on the spot and if one was keeping something from you, then a guilty feeling would be a very instinctive reaction and difficult to block.  In fact, as Harry recalled having been asked over the years by Dumbledore the question of whether there was 'anything he'd like to tell', Harry now realized that Dumbledore had likely been reading the very list of thoughts that had run through in his mind before he'd answered, 'No, sir, none at all'.  

"You lied," Harry said watching Dumbledore's blue eyes intently.  "Your _twinkle_ faltered for a---is _that_ your projection?  The _twinkle_?"  Harry gasped.  _The damn twinkle that more than half the time made one feel like it meant Dumbledore knew some amusing secret!  The **twinkle** that made you often wonder twice what it was the old man might have found out and that--well, that of course only meant you'd go through this list of things you hoped he didn't know and— _"That's the most brilliantly manipulative thing I think I've ever heard," Harry said blithely.  While Dumbledore would _twinkle_ away, he was very sneakily prompting people to run through all the very things they perhaps least wanted the man to know, all while looking into those twinkly blue eyes that were seeing each and every little thought and image.  

Who else had ever given Harry the feeling they knew things like that?  _Snape_.  Harry laughed shortly now.  "Snape—his glare..."  That fathomless black depth drew you in and Harry—Harry had always tried to stubbornly stare right back—and played right into his hands.  Harry recalled a time in fourth year when Snape had threatened to use Veritaserum on him and been trying to find proof that Harry had stolen ingredients from his office in the past.  

"That's it, isn't it?" he asked Dumbledore now.  "That's the secret to projection."  _Voldemort...he has those demonic red eyes that simply because they're red make you stare.  Maybe they're not even red at all but just his projection?_  "You, Snape, Voldemort—each of you have a certain look you give to your eyes that makes a person want to stare into them..." he trailed off in thought.  _Imagine yourself successful and let that image of yourself guard your shield_, Dumbledore had advised Harry once.  Snape and Dumbledore both had the tendency of making you feel like they believed they already knew something—that was the key—_that_ was them imagining themselves as successful in penetrating someone else's mind and that was what they used to project forth and conceal their own mind's shield.  

Dumbledore was beaming now at Harry and almost rocking back and forth on his heals.  "I think you're on track now, Harry," he said brightly.  "Forgive me for not trying to simply explain it to you, but I know that when I taught Severus, it was such an intangible concept that he could not grasp it until he came upon the realization of its use himself.  I had faith you'd come across it quickly and you have, you have indeed!"  

Harry shook his head; glad to have come across this understanding of a key concept in mastering the art of Occlumency as well as the first major step in becoming a mastered Legilimens.  "Speaking of Snape," he said slowly and looking closely at Dumbledore.  "I asked you if you were keeping things from me—you seemed very pleased at what he said before he conveniently disappeared.  What do you know about it?  What happened to Voldemort tonight?  Is that what you know?"  

"Can't you guess?" Dumbledore asked looking genuinely surprised.  "I do admit to being pleasantly surprised at your ability to suffer upon Lord Voldemort any sort of attack while it seems he was conscious, at least that is what I presume from Severus's brief words."

"Me?  I...I caused him to have an attack?" Harry asked.  

"Of course!" Dumbledore said.  "You felt a tremendous burst of amplified love this evening when you cast the spell to light the Life Light.  Opposing emotional forces!"  His smile dropped and Dumbledore peered over the rim of his silver glasses.  "Was not the true inspiration for your insight into the Patronus Charm's prerequisite emotion the knowledge about the nature of your scar connection with Voldemort?  Your insight and theory of opposing emotions actually clarified your scar connection—I never did get a chance to tell you how truly elegantly simplistic the theory is—which only lends it all the more weight."  At Harry's blank look, Dumbledore looked surprised and shook his head.  "I thought for sure that had been your inspiration for the idea and theory.  I put them together at once and asked myself how I could have missed what seemed so obvious."  He winked as he added, "Although I _was_ on the right track."

"Back up," Harry said raising a hand up.  "What does the Patronus Charm have to do with my scar connection to Voldemort?"

"Opposing emotional forces," Dumbledore said again to quote part of the essay Harry had written not long ago.  "While the Patronus Charm is a manifestation of the emotion hope and is then effective against a Dementor which elicits the opposite emotion despair, so is the diametric connection shared between yourself and Voldemort.  Love and—"

"—hate," Harry said.  Distractedly he stared off towards the long, worn wooden table of the kitchen.  "Hate is the emotion behind the Killing Curse, isn't it," he said as more of a statement than a question.  

"I do believe so," Dumbledore said watching him closely.  

A whole hoard of new possibilities, questions and thoughts grew from this understanding—but he didn't have time for all that now.  Harry snapped out of his thoughts and suddenly felt they'd already spent quite enough time down in the basement.  "I should go speak to the Weasleys.  They're probably all waiting for me by now."

Before Harry could leave though, Dumbledore said, "Harry, do try to understand Ronald—he's just yearning to feel included."  Harry didn't meet his eyes and just nodded once before turning to leave.  

*

*

*

Harry had already begun composing his castigation of the Weasleys as he walked up to the second floor library; his original sense of anger at the whole thing now being replaced by a wearied calm.  He paused as he saw Bill outside the door with Fleur who was looking rather distressed.  

"Harry," Bill said as soon as he spotted him.  "Moody said you wanted to see all of us but Fleur wanted—"

"I'll address everyone at once," Harry said curtly, nodding for them both to go on in.  Bill nodded and Harry ignored the repentant look Fleur was trying to send his way.  Moody opened the door for them at once and let Fleur and Bill enter as he saw Harry.  "Got everyone?" he asked and Moody nodded.  "Thanks then—I got it from here."  Moody left with a nod and a grunt.

"What's up, Harry?" one of the twins asked brightly as he stood up from where he'd been leaning back against the desk.  

"Sit," Harry said tersely as he surveyed the rest of the room.  Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were each seated at the small round table off to the side along with Charlie.   Bill and Fleur had taken a seat on the fireplace hearth beside Ginny.  And Ron, seated in one of the armchairs across the room by the other twin, sighed loudly and crossed his arms irritably while pointedly looking off into space. 

"Tonight has been an unmitigated disaster as far as keeping secrets," Harry began plainly as he walked over to beside the desk and looked from the twins, to Ginny, to Charlie and to Mr. And Mrs. Weasley.  "I think I need to remind _all_ of you that each and every piece of knowledge you have about the Order—_secret_ Order I might remind you—is meant to be a SECRET.  Key word?  _Secret_!"  Harry's voice had risen and Mrs. Weasley was stirring with unconcealed disapproval and concern.  

"Harry," she began indulgently.

But Harry closed his eyes and went on to say, "That includes everything from the fact that there _is_ an Order, who is _in_ the Order and especially to details of _any_ work any one of you has taken part in.  ALL OF IT—secrecy is _not_ optional!"  At these last words, Harry's fists had clenched and his eyes had snapped open, burning brightly as they looked from one properly ashamed twin to the other.  Bill had his arm around Fleur, the only one besides Harry in the room who was not a Weasley.  Fleur looked incredibly sad and contrite.  She sniffed and then bravely rose from her seat on the stone hearth as she said, "'Arry, I am most sorry for my failure--"

"I'm not blaming you, Fleur," Harry said in a tired voice.  "Believe me, I think you had every right to believe that me being a member of the Order was common knowledge to all those here.  It now is and if it wasn't for a specific request to keep that truth from both Ron and Ginny," Harry looked directly at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, "then it would have been an accurate assumption."  

Harry leaned back against a wall of shelves, one arm crossed in front of his chest and the other cradling the side of his head.  He heard both of the twins shift over where they now sat and he looked to them.  "Fred and George—you two let something _huge_ slip—not just slip but you just out and out talked about it like other people knew about it!  And mind you, while it is indeed a huge secret of the Order, it is more importantly, and most _disappointingly_, a huge secret to me."  He cut them off with a wave of his hand.  "I know, I know and the part that it was about me was why you thought Ron would know.  But he wasn't the only one there, was he?  Neville and Luna were both there—neither members of the Order."  

The twins both hung their heads and Harry heard Mrs. Weasley whispering to ask her husband and Charlie what the twins had done now.  

"Charlie," Harry said loudly as he turned now to face the small table.  "You let slip something that gave away half of everything Voldemort's" —nearly everyone shivered except for Fleur who was huddled against Bill— "been after since June!  Believe it or not—I _didn't_ know the details of it but I've put it all together now! Don't look so surprised," Harry said at Charlie's shocked look.  Harry pointed ruefully to his scar and said, "I've got a direct connect to Voldemort and am more vulnerable than anyone to having my mind picked clean if I fell into the wrong hands.  I only know what I need to know and have been working since summer to learn to protect my mind.  Which also means you shouldn't be sharing the information you know with just anyone as idle conversation—if anyone was ever captured...I think it's a good guess that you'd get any information you could provide wrung out of you.  The less anyone and everyone knows, the less they can give away."

Harry paced in a small circle for a moment as he rubbed his temple.  He could again hear Mrs. Weasley whispering, this time to Charlie and likely demanding to know what it was he'd let slip.  "You know, I think part of the problem here is that, as a family, you all have a great deal of proximity to each other and information and it makes everything you know and deal with seem more casual than it is.   Ginny—" Harry looked to her seated on the hearth stone, "you gave away some vital information tonight—"

"What?" she said indignantly in a shrill voice.

Harry quelled her with a look as he further explained.  "But as you're not a member of the Order, you're not necessarily entrusted with keeping its secrets.  But, as you do know enough to give some info away," he looked back to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley again now, "you ought to be informed of what changes to the Order might affect what you know."  Ginny was looking thunderous at being implicated for any wrongdoing and Harry explained to her before she could protest, "You let slip to Luna and Neville that Snape is involved with the Order—his involvement is not general knowledge to the Order anymore and it most especially should not have spread around about his arrival here tonight."  Ginny pursed her lips and coolly looked off to the side.   

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said turning now to face her.  

She had been glaring off at Ginny reprovingly and now snapped her eyes up to meet Harry's as she said, "Oh I quite agree!  Believe me, I think you're quite right to bring all this up Harry and I've never been so ashamed of all my children!"  Mr. Weasley was patting her arm in an effort to quiet her.

Harry bit the corner of his lip and blinked; this wasn't going to be easy.  "Mrs. Weasley," he started again delicately, "I don't think you've concealed your belief that _children_ should be kept in the dark as much as possible," her jaw snapped shut audibly here, "but while some secrets need to be kept, some can end up being quite dangerous."

Charlie laughed here and asked, "Either they're secrets or they're not!  What kinds of secrets can be dangerous?"

"The kind about other secrets that prevent people from knowing enough to avoid certain things.  Like about the prophecy last year and all the bloody secrets the Order tried to keep from me!  We wouldn't be here tonight if I'd at least been told there _was_ a prophecy and about the Department of Mysteries!  Sirius _died_ because of that misguidedly kept secret!" 

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley began.

He turned to her now, anger flaring as he said, "No, I _know_ you never really liked Sirius and you certainly took every chance to tell him what a poor godfather he was but that doesn't mean he should have had to ever be lured out to save my arse when _I _got lured out!  It all never should have been kept from me!"

"I never said..." she began weakly, taken aback at his emotional outburst.

"You _always_ tried to keep me away from him!  You blamed him for getting sent to Azkaban and not being there for me!  DON'T YOU THINK HE WOULD'VE IF HE COULD?!"  Harry's eyes were shut tight in some effort to regain control.  The memory of Sirius hurriedly slipping him the poorly wrapped package containing the mirror while trying to hide it from Mrs. Weasley because he said she wouldn't 'approve' flashed into his mind.  _Why wouldn't she have wanted me to be able to safely contact Sirius, _Harry wondered bitterly.    

A hand settled on Harry's shoulder as Mr. Weasley, who'd risen and walked over as Harry had been calming himself, said gently, "Harry."

Harry drew in a sharp breath and said, "Professor Dumbledore learned from that. He doesn't keep things from me anymore and if he does, he tells me the reason why."  Harry met Mr. Weasley's concerned gaze as he said, "And I think you and Mrs. Weasley need to learn the same lesson."

"We're not keeping anything from you!" Mrs. Weasley said wildly from where she'd stood up and was currently being held onto by Charlie.  

"No but you kept things from Ron!  And Ginny!  _And_ you've made me feel trapped between keeping my promise to you to not tell them anything and having to lie to one of my best friends!"

"What haven't we been told?" Ginny asked angrily looking around the room.  

"That Hermione and I are both in the Order and have been since summer!" Harry said at once.  "Which—"

"Harry..."

"—you already knew.  And not only that, but me, well," Harry laughed humourlessly, "_I've_ been named the next Leader!  Beside Dumbledore, _I_ know more of what's going on than anyone!"  Harry didn't look over to see Ron's expression; Ginny's look of surprise was enough.  

"I don't think this is the best time," Mrs. Weasley began to say, frowning.

"No!  The _best_ time has long passed!" Harry shouted back at her.  "I'm _sick_ of keeping secrets like this!  I've got enough secrets that really _do_ need to be kept than to worry about someone's hurt feelings at being _left out_!"  Harry snarled this last part in Ron's direction but still didn't look directly at him.  

Mr. Weasley, still standing beside Harry, now reached out to squeeze his shoulder again as he said, "Harry, I know Ron was wrong to blow up—"

"I'm not upset at Ron right now, I'm furious that I was put in the middle between him and Mrs. Weasley!  I'm furious that if she was so intent on keeping everything from him that neither of you went to the trouble to warn everyone else in this room to keep quiet!  Fleur had every right to expect anyone here tonight would know I'm in the Order!  Did you tell her you wanted that kept a secret?  NO!  And now she feels like rubbish for causing a blow out. And you!" Harry said now turning to Ron finally.  "Get over it!  So you're not in the Order—big deal!  No one would have to bother to keep things from you if you weren't sure to go off like a top!  If you don't grow up and get over it, you can forget about _ever_ joining—and believe me--you _will_ need to get through _me_ first!"  

As Harry had began to yell at Ron, Ron's face had paled so much his freckles stood out in sharp contrast, but now, as Harry threatened him with never being in the Order, Ron's face flooded scarlet.  

"Harry," Mr. Weasley was trying to calm him down again.

"All the problems tonight began with people here in this room and they'll end here."  Harry gave a cold look to Mrs. Weasley whose lower lip was trembling as Charlie kept one arm wrapped around her.  "I'm not keeping anyone else's secrets from now on and I'll tell whomever I need to about whatever I need to."  Harry shrugged off the hand on his shoulder and strode across the room to the door.  He stopped and turned back to say, "Carelessness can be just as deadly as a traitor and there's no excuse for it.  You," he pointed at Charlie, "and you," he pointed at Ginny, "are not allowed to answer any little questions here about what it was you let slip.  You did enough damage as it was.  You two," he pointed at the twins who seemed to want to disappear into the woodwork, "I don't care if you tell both Ron and Ginny what everyone else in here knows about the prophecy.  That's all any of you will know if I have anything to say about it—_which I do!_  I don't want to hear it though.  And don't come to me with questions.  Straighten yourselves out."  

Harry was out of the room, the door slamming behind him, before anyone could speak another word.  He seemed to feel just a bit freer.

"Oh!  Hello," said a startled Mr. Granger who was just exiting from his bedroom.  "Going back up?  I'll walk with you."  

Harry, quite numb from his outburst with the Weasleys, nodded and was grateful that he wouldn't have to linger around and wait for the Weasleys to wander out from the library.  He didn't even want to contemplate what was being said from one Weasley to another in that room right now.  

"So," said Mr. Granger jovially and with a bit of a laugh.  "You wouldn't believe how many people gathered here tonight have made some comment or another about how pleased my wife and I must be that our daughter has such a fine young man in you for her boyfriend."  He laughed again and Harry now recognized it as the self-deprecating sort.  "More than one person here tonight has said they would be delighted to have someone with your honour dating their daughter."

"Well, they might just say that because I'm famous, sir."  

He laughed again, this time wholeheartedly as they climbed the second floor staircase.  "More than one said you were known as quite modest, too!"

Mr. Granger was being friendly towards him.  Who would have guessed?  "So, er, this mean you don't want to interrogate me any more?" Harry asked dryly.

"Mm, perhaps later," Mr. Granger said with a grim look that lasted only a few moments before giving way to a kinder smile.  "But it's certainly reassuring to meet so many people who obviously think quite highly of you.  Begins to make up for the fact that we barely know you, much less our daughter these days—and there she is!"  

Hermione was just standing in the open door way leading into the hall as Harry and her father came up.  She looked to Harry like she had been worrying for quite some time.  

"Moody said you were speaking with all the Weasleys.  Did it go all right?" she asked immediately.  

Harry vacillated and ended up shrugging.  "I said what I wanted to say and what needed to be said.  I didn't hang around to see how they took it."

Hermione gave Harry a calculating look and then turned to her father.  "Did you want to have that dance now, Dad?"

Mr. Granger beamed at his daughter, turned to Harry and said, "If you'll be so kind as to excuse us?" He gave her a gentlemanly bow and then gracefully took her hand and led her out to the dance floor of the hall.  

_Well, that's a relief to know there's one less person Hermione and I will be at odds with.  _

Harry caught Remus' eye then as he walked further into the hall and nodded once.  Remus was seated off to the side beside Neville who looked almost ill.  Nearly all the guests who'd remained up here while Snape had come and gone and while Harry had blown off steam towards the Weasleys were still enjoying themselves and celebrating merrily.  Harry half hoped they would still be merry after the warning they were about to receive; the other half of him hoped that they'd sober immediately and appreciate the danger they might face.  

"Welcome back, Harry," Luna said with a nod.  Harry did a double take then and saw she'd sprouted antlers.  When she saw him looking at her head, she said, "Oh, like it?  I think it makes me look elegant."

Harry only managed to keep a straight face because he was still quite numb from earlier.  _Only Luna would think a rack like that—oh, no—I won't even think it!_

Harry then looked over at Neville, if for no other reason than to avoid looking at Luna's, er, _rack_.  "I can't believe Snape's a good guy," Neville said dully as if the entire foundation of his world had been shaken and he no longer knew which way was up and which way was down.  "I always thought he was..._such an arse_!"

Both Remus and Harry chorused, "Oh, he is!" and then laughed.  

Remus looked to Harry and shrugged as he pointed a finger at Neville.  "Both Hermione and I have done our best to explain Snape.  Neville doesn't still quite believe it."

"That's 'cuz there is no explanation for Snape," Harry said as if it were common knowledge.  

Fred and George were then seen walking into the hall and they quickly scanned around for Harry.  "I should go stand off alone somewhere so none of them inadvertently wander back and tell me off in front of everyone and spill more secrets."  

Remus just gave him a questioning look that Harry ignored.  Okay, so maybe he didn't _quite_ expect all the Weasleys to be livid with him but, well, certainly a few choice ones were more than likely not pleased with him at the moment.

Fred was the first one to speak while George vigilantly scanned around to make sure no one was near them to overhear.  "We're as sorry as can be, Harry," he said.  

"Truly."

"So are Fleur and Charlie."

"And Ginny, too.  But she's actually blaming Mum for her bit."  George shrugged as if this were to be expected.

"Is there anything we can do?" Fred asked.

Harry just shook his head.  "No.  Just make sure you hang out here until Dumbledore has a chance to address everyone.  Oh, mates?  I am really sorry about--" Harry waved a hand, "—you know.  Before.  I don't want you to feel _sorry_, I want you all to be more careful."  

It was a very odd thing, Harry decided, to see both twins without any mischievous sparkle in their eyes at all and looking completely somber.   He knew they had meant no harm he couldn't help but feel forgiving towards them.  "Check out Luna's rack," he said with a jerk of his head towards her table.   The twins instantly relaxed into smiles and beamed back at Harry after spotting their handy work atop Luna's head.

Bill and Fleur were the next two to return from the library and they also sought out Harry as soon as they saw him.  Harry went through the same thing as he did with Fred and George and when Fleur tried to apologize yet again, Harry just assured them it wasn't an apology he wanted; he just wanted them to be more vigilant.  

Ginny and Charlie followed not long after that and after apologizing, both assured Harry that they resisted all attempts by their mother to determine what it was they had each done to breech secrecy (much to her dismay).  Ron, Ginny had said, was trying to convince his mum and dad that he just wanted to go home now.  Which didn't surprise Harry too much but it did worry him that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley might slip off before Dumbledore addressed everyone.  But as soon as Harry looked about for Moody to go check on who was left in the library, Moody was there, ushering Ron and his parents into the hall.  A moment later, Dumbledore, seeing everyone present, called the gathering to attention and gave his due warning.  

Harry could see Hermione whispering to her parents something as Dumbledore began to speak and both Mr. and Mrs. Granger respectfully slipped out a side door.  Hermione then made her way over to Harry, who had remained leaning against a wall behind the chamber orchestra, and slipped an arm around his waist in silent support. 

It occurred to Harry as he listened to Dumbledore remind everyone to be aware of the threat they endured, that this really was a better way than just ominously announcing the note left at the Jones residence after their murders.  Everyone did indeed seem sobered by the reminder and warnings given but no one seemed to be in any sort of panic.  The biggest reaction came from Charlie and the twins when Dumbledore reminded the Weasleys specifically that, as Peter had lived as a rat in their home for many long years, they were also significantly at threat.  Charlie here let out a string of colourful language that detailed the payment he would like to visit upon Percy for 'bringing in the only rat bigger than himself'.  The twins wholeheartedly agreed and were well on their way to designing a new wheeze that would turn the victim into a rat.  (They'd already volunteered Percy as their unwitting test subject.)

With the announcement, the celebratory mood was broken and several people broke off into smaller groups for discussions and others began to leave.  As the protections on Grimmauld Place did not prevent anyone from Disapparating from the house, leaving was a much easier event then arriving.   

"Albus is making Portkeys for both of you and the Weasleys to return home," Remus announced as he approached a table where Neville, Luna, Hermione and Harry had all been seated.  Neville was still quite off balance from the revelation that Snape was involved in the same Order that his parents had served in.  It was clearly too much to take in and Harry was quite sympathetic; he still had his doubts about Snape every other waking minute.  

"Neville?" Remus said trying to get his attention again.  "I will accompany you home on your portkey and Luna, Arthur Weasley said he'd go with you."

A voice cleared then behind Harry and he turned to see Ron standing there, looking quite uncomfortable.  Harry noted that Hermione, who stood immediately to his left, was not being acknowledged at all by Ron.  "Yes?  Ron?" Harry prompted when Ron hadn't done anything but glower.  

Ron turned and, making an obvious show, sauntered over to a corner away from everyone else.  He then crossed his arms and looked pointedly at Harry.  Harry just looked at him like he was barmy.  

"I think he wants to talk to you over there," Hermione said airily as she turned away from Ron and struck up a conversation with Luna.  

"Has he apologized to you?" Harry asked her, interrupting what he obviously saw as a forced inquiry about the Purple-Toed Dingleship Luna had been prattling on about earlier.  

"No," Hermione replied coolly and then returned to Luna.  

Harry plucked up all the resolve, self-control and maturity he could find and made his way over towards Ron.  _This had better be an apology he's about to say.  And there'd better be one Hermione coming soon, too,_ he thought resolutely.  

"Yes?" Harry demanded as he stopped a fair distance away from Ron.

Ron's eyes narrowed and he asked, "Was that supposed to be an apology?  Earlier?"  At Harry's confounded look, Ron sighed exasperatedly and said, "In the library before with everyone?  Was that your _apology_ to me?"

Something about Ron's expectant and self-righteous tone—not to mention the fact that Ron thought Harry was the one who needed to apologize—made Harry briefly entertain the thought of slugging the prat once again.  Fortunately though for Ron, the pain that the first hit had caused was still fresh in Harry's memory.  "No," Harry said icily.  "It _may_ serve as an explanation to you if you're so open to accept one but _I_ don't owe _you_ any apology."  

Ron's face was flushing from pink to red and Harry knew it was anger and not embarrassment causing this reaction.  In fact, Harry was ready to dodge any blow Ron might try to land.  But Ron, almost visibly shaking now, did seem to actually be attempting—and succeeding—in controlling himself for the moment. 

So many thoughts had blossomed and flitted through Harry's mind in these few moments.  How could Ron be stuck on blowing such petty little things so much out of proportion when they were at war?  Ron almost reminded Harry of Draco Malfoy and how that little varmint always seemed to believe _he_ was the main focus of Harry's every move and conversation.  Had they no perspective?  How could Ron not value more than five years of friendship enough to see the important things?  

Harry knew what Ron and Ron's friendship meant to him.  Ron represented that last vestige of childhood; a rotten and short-lived childhood but still, that was perhaps what made it all the more precious to Harry now.  Ron was the best friend to _Harry_—not Harry Potter, not some child of a prophecy, and not, Harry now realized, to Harry the next chosen Lead Light of the Order.  And that certainly now seemed to be a large glaring problem.  Maybe Ron really _was_ the friend of all these various aspects of Harry's life.  Maybe it was _Harry_ who wasn't being reasonable.  Maybe Ron felt there was supposed to be more to being Harry's friend than just hanging around and playing chess or talking about quidditch.  _Could that be true?_

"Why are you even friends with me?" Harry asked tonelessly.  Ron looked, well, clueless.  "Honestly—I don't even know!" Harry said.  "I know why I value you as my friend but why me?"  Ron snorted as if he thought these were ridiculous questions and while Harry did agree, he still couldn't find an answer to them.  "_Why_?"

"Why are you friends with Hermione?" Ron snapped.

Harry blinked twice before the answer just spilled out.  "She makes me a better person.  I want to _be_ a better person because of her."  The sincerity of the words coming out of his mouth amazed even Harry.  "She helps me be who I _need_ to be."

"And I don't?" Ron said with a cool smile.  

Harry snapped out of his marvelling at his regard for Hermione and shook his head.  "No, no, that's not what I mean."

"Uh-huh," Ron said nodding.  "Sure."

"You're different!"

"I'm not Hermione?"

"Oh, of course you're not Hermione!"

"And I don't help you to _be who you need to be_," Ron said snidely.  "I see."

"Don't you get it?" Harry said getting fed up with this.  Ron wasn't understanding what he was trying to say.  He kept twisting everything Harry said.  "You help me get to be who I just _wish_ I could be!"

Ron gave Harry a dubious look and swallowed audibly before he said, "You mean like plain old _boring_ Harry?"

"Yes!"  He was finally getting this and Harry finally felt they were getting somewhere.

"Ah, I see.  Well, plain old Ron Weasley says _piss off_!" and then Ron spun and began to stalk away.  

"This isn't _my_ fault you know!" Harry shouted wildly at his retreating form, as everything suddenly seemed all turned around and put on him.  _How did this get all cocked up?_  "You still owe Hermione an apology!" he bellowed as Ron's dress robes--_the bloody effing robes I got the twins to buy for the pigheaded prat!_--billowed out behind him as he stalked out of the hall and never looked back.   "Oh, blow me."

Mrs. Weasley never did get a chance to get to Harry before their Portkey was set to leave but Mr. Weasley had sent numerous apologetic glances Harry's way.  It was with a great feeling of relief that Harry finally saw the last guests, Dumbledore and Fawkes, depart.   Tonks had long ago taken her mother, who had been one of the only guests whose mood hadn't diminished after Dumbledore's announcement, down to their rooms.  The Grangers had both long retired to their room.  Remus had left to turn in about the same time that Dumbledore wished then all good night and disappeared in a whirl of flame after grabbing a hold of Fawkes tail feathers.  

"We're the only ones left," said Hermione's voice from across the hall.  Harry turned and saw her waving her wand to put out the fires still burning in the two fireplaces.  "Feels more like it's been six days instead of six hours, doesn't it?"  She waved her wand towards each of the lamps upon the wall; putting each one out in turn.  

"Yes," Harry said vaguely as he stared, mesmerized, at how the diaphanous sleeves of her dress robes made her bare arms beneath take on an ethereal glow in the darkening room.  She put out the last gas lamp and a barely incandescent golden glow still softly illuminated the room.  He looked up and saw a few scores of remaining golden pinpricks of light still hovering about the ceiling.  

"Almost looks magical, doesn't it?" Hermione said from right in front of him.  Harry looked down from the golden-starred ceiling and felt himself pulled into an embrace; Hermione's eyes sparkling with their own golden points of magically entrancing light.  

"It's been a long day," he said as her hands settled on the small of his back.

"Are you tired?" she asked lightly.

"Exhausted."

"You want to go to sleep?" Her voice was barely a whisper now and Harry could feel the warmth from her breath caressing his lips.

"Not yet," he said in a barely audible whisper.

"You want to go to bed?" she asked as her lips ghosted over his cheek to his ear.  

His hands, delighting in the feel of the fabric of her robes, slid up her back until one hand ran up and into her hair, cupping the back of her neck while the other hand he slipped forward to cup the side of her face.  He cradled her face until her forehead rested against his and they were caught upon each other's gaze.  "Yes," he breathed out, letting his words fall upon her lips.  

*****

~*~*~*~*~*~

Note: A smutty interlude between Chapter 46 and Chapter 47 is forthcoming and will be found on my Yahoo group.  See my bio profile for the link to the group.  Cheers!


	44. Chapter 47 Ponderings

FF.net note:  There was a smut interlude (very NC17) that occurred between this chapter and the last.  It is available to those of you who like that sort of thing on the Yahoo group site.  (See my bio page for the link.)  It was also posted on my Lj.   

You won't miss much at all if you don't read it, in fact, as far as the characters go, it's more of an emotional/character divergence than a continuation of the last chapter's end.  I like smut, so I wrote smut and it was a good spot to highlight a scene.  The only plot point that comes up is the question of what was Fred & George's 'stashed' birthday gift.  Either way, know that Hermione helped Harry celebrate a bit more after everyone else left and the next morning, there may be a few nods to that fact.  Read on! 

**Chapter 47.  Ponderings**

"What are you doing?"

Hermione looked up from where she was crouched down on the stone floor of the basement kitchen and currently fussing with an old cauldron stand; one very old and _rusty_ cauldron stand.  She hastily wiped a stray wisp of hair from her face and gloomily replied, "Trying to get this rusty old thing to work.  Help?"  

Harry was clad in his pyjama bottoms and a jumper and now took a spot on the cold floor beside her.  It was still morning and when he'd awoke, he'd vaguely remembered Hermione kissing him and telling him she was getting up.   He'd come down for whatever was still on for breakfast but now found himself wondering what on earth Hermione was doing with a smattering of old Potions equipment and just where everyone else had gone.  "You really haven't told me what you're doing," he said as he tried to make the rusting hinges of the cauldron stand open up.  

"I'm getting started on the potion to allow my parents to use the mirrors," she said as she searched through an old box filled with things that made a lot of clanging sounds as they were moved about.  "Dobby actually said he could get any ingredients I needed."  She looked up then at Harry and said, "Did you know House Elves have are allowed to go out and into Wizarding stores and markets?  He said most major merchants have special rear entrances for the elves and that a good elf is one who is never seen out."  

Her mouth pressed into a thin, disapproving line after she spoke and Harry just knew Hermione was probably dreaming up a parade to celebrate the freedom she was determined to eventually shove down the throat of each and every contented little House Elf.  

"Well, I suppose they have to get food and stuff somewhere so they can cook it and serve it."  Hermione looked at him sharply and he smiled disarmingly, knowing he sounded like Ron now.  "Come on, it's what Dobby and Winky are _paid_ to do.  Besides, if I could get around with no one ever seeing me, I'd do it too."

"Oh, I suppose," Hermione said as she grabbed the stand back from Harry and tried to force the hinges open.   It didn't budge.  

"What time did you get up this morning?" Harry asked as he watched her futile efforts.  "I barely recall hearing you.  Where is everyone else?"

Hermione didn't seem to be paying attention.  "I wish I had _my_ stand but it's back at school.  Maybe I can Floo Professor McGonagall or Dumbledore before they leave..."

"Her-_mi_-o-ne?"  Harry waved his hand in front of her.  

"Hmm?  Oh, I was up early.  Seven.  You were fast asleep and mumbling about Bertie Botts Beans." She paused from where she was looking at the inside of an old, dented iron cauldron, looked down her nose at him a moment with one eyebrow arched and said, "You seemed to be having pleasant dreams."  

Harry grinned sheepishly at her.  

"I told my dad about Remus' work on furniture restoration.  They've been up in the attic since after breakfast.  Mum, too."

"Tonks and Andy?"

Hermione shrugged.  "If you can't hear Tonks, my bet is she's still asleep."  She pushed the cauldron away then and sighed heavily, saying, "This cauldron won't do!  It's filthy with who knows what on the inside and I need pewter, not iron."

Harry, feeling the cold of the stone starting to numb his cheeks, stood up and dusted himself off.  "I'm starved.  Can't you send Dobby out for some new potions equipment?  That stuff looks ancient."

"It's what was here in the house," Hermione said grumpily.  "And cauldrons this size are expensive."

"How does Dobby pay for things when he goes out?" Harry asked as he wandered over to pull out a covered pan from the warming oven.  

"I had to give him money for the ingredients I needed," Hermione said.  "Otherwise he says it just gets put on a tab.  I imagine it's a general cheque for headquarters that Dumbledore makes sure is taken care of.   Oh, guess what?  I told my dad about the mirror you gave to him and Mum and, well, I think he's definitely changed his tune about you."  Hermione smiled broadly as Harry pulled out a slice of toast and sniffed it experimentally.  

"He seemed in a good mood last night," Harry commented.  "Even got over the fact he had to wear a dress to fit in."

"Mm," Hermione laughed.  "I think he had a good time.  Better than you did for the most part," she added with a frown.

Harry sighed and threw the toast back into the pan.  "Yes, well, I should know better than to expect any gathering with every single Weasley to go smoothly, I suppose."  He pulled out the nearest battered wooden chair from the long worn table and sat down heavily.  "If nothing else, at least last night was eventful."  He looked up and gave Hermione a sly smile as he said, "Though, the end of the night did begin to make up for all the earlier dramatics."  

Harry knew if Hermione hadn't so completely taken his mind and kept it completely and utterly occupied with nothing but her, that he would have spent half the night awake and trying to sort out everything that had happened.  He still had to sort it all, though, but now at least, he had one very well rested night of sleep for perspective.  

Hermione walked over and, as she mussed up his already messy hair with her hand, took the chair beside him.  "I was determined that you'd be able to look back and think fondly on last night one way or another," she said with a puckish grin.  

"Well," Harry said as he turned to her.  "It worked.  Plans for today?"

"Well, I need to get this potion started since it will take nearly the remainder of our break to reduce.  Remus said the Inner Council will meet this evening after dinner—go over all the numerous stuff that's happened.  It'll include either Snape himself if he's able or at the very least, a report from him."  

Harry gave Hermione a dubious look; now that he thought on it, he was a bit surprised that Hermione hadn't been badgering him for details about all the things that had happened last night.   Snape arriving, his injuries and report on Voldemort's condition and doings, the talk with Ron that was, as far as Harry was concerned, a complete and total disaster...

"Remus filled me in on Snape somewhat," Hermione said as if she knew what he was thinking.  "And judging by the way Ron stormed out of the hall after talking to you, I'd say he didn't make amends very well."  

Harry just gave her a look that conveyed her last comment was quite the understatement and sighed heavily yet again.  He needed to get everything sorted out in his mind and soon.  There were so many things he had questions about and that he needed to think through.  

Hermione ran a hand through his hair then and said, "My parents are debating what they're going to do.   I promised them that I'd spend a good deal of the summer with them somehow in exchange that for the rest of the winter holiday, they just stay here."

"And after we head back to school?" Harry asked.  

Hermione bit her lip.  "We discussed a few options this morning but they all have drawbacks.  They could go off again to a remote location with Professor McGonagall acting as their Secret Keeper again."  Harry hadn't realized they'd been under the Fidelius Charm and Hermione nodded at the look on his face.  "I know--I didn't realize that was what hid the knowledge of where exactly they were.  Or," she continued as she rose and walked into the pantry, "they could try to resume living here in England and pick up with their practices again while we try to use Fidelius to hide the knowledge that they are _my_ parents."  She came out carrying two blueberry scones and two empty mugs.  "It might make things weird for their old friends who my parents would be used to them knowing they have a daughter but," she sighed, "I think it's a small price to pay for their safety."   

"Why can't they just stay here?" Harry asked as he took a crumpet she offered.  

Hermione gave him a look.  "And just do nothing and never go out?  Harry, I'd think you of all people would see that's not an attractive option for anyone."  

"Well, where are they going to live if they stay in England?" he asked.  "I don't understand everything about the Fidelius Charm but it sounds like someone could still find out where a Dr. and Dr. Granger lived.  They wouldn't have to know they were your parents necessarily.  How often did Ron have Scabbers with him when we all hung out?  Plenty often for Wormtail to know all sorts of personal information about your family, don't you think?"

Hermione sighed as she poured them each a mug of coffee.  "Maybe.  I don't know."

"Well, they should know it's an option," Harry said.  "Staying here, I mean.  I'm sure Remus wouldn't mind and an extra person in the house here would probably not go astray."  

"We'll see," was all Hermione said before the topic changed to what they each had to get done before the end of break and what they might plan to work on together.  Dobby returned before too long with one magically enchanted bag that held over a dozen different potion ingredients and Harry then insisted that he go back out and buy a standard set of potions equipment for Hermione to use.  When Hermione tried to protest, he justified it as being something that the Order might someday need to have handy at its headquarters.  

While Hermione immediately began to immerse herself in preparing the ingredients for the enchantment of the mirror, Harry decided that voluntary potions work was just not his thing.  He headed upstairs with the intent of catching up on all the Order post that he'd missed over the past several days.  

He was heading down the hallway towards the second floor library when Tonks nearly ran him over as she came bouncing out of the drawing room.  

"Oi!  Har!  There you are!"  She said brightly.  She was wearing a sloppy old sweatshirt that read 'Oxford' and faded jeans.  "So, I've got this, er, _to-do list_ from McGonagall.  She said I was to make sure you got it and—" Tonks stopped in mid sentence.  

"What?" Harry said as she just grinned at him.  "Oof!"  Harry was suddenly flung against the wall as Tonks leapt at him and clutched him in a furious embrace.  "What the...Tonks?" Harry said weakly as he tried to remain upright.

Finally she pulled back.  "Isn't it brilliant?!" she gushed as she bounced cheerfully.  "I _knew_ there was something to you when Hermione called me about your hair!"  

She was on about the Metamorphamagus thing again and her exuberance was currently rivalling that of Lavender and Parvati's around the time of the Yule Ball.  Harry turned and tried to keep walking towards the library.  

"I knew it!  I should have seen it earlier," she was saying now as she followed him doggedly.  "I remember when Molly was trying to make your hair lie flat before your hearing last year.   You must have been doing that on _purpose_!  I understand and all, fancy the mussy look myself as you never have to work to get it right, but—"

"Actually, you're wrong," Harry said simply as he threw open the library door and walked in.  "I _don't_ like my hair the way it is.  I have no _idea_ why it is the way it is.  _I _certainly don't like it.  And if I'm supposed to be able to change myself at will and all, how come my scar's never faded?  You don't think I've not wished _that_ away only a million bazillion times?"

Tonks had stopped and was looking at Harry curiously.  "You did grow your hair back at least once, didn't you?"

"Yes," Harry said through clenched teeth and with a loud sigh.  "_Once_.  But I looked _hideous _before it grew back.  You don't understand how much my aunt and uncle hated—_still_ hate!—my hair."

"So, they never liked your hair how it was?  All...untamed?" Tonks asked with narrowed eyes.  

Harry was barely listening.  "They're _always_ going on about how I look like a hooligan and that it's a disgrace.  I must have had half-dozen haircuts for every one my cousin ever had!"  Harry shook his head and reflexively ran a hand through his hair.  "They were always trying to make it change and lay flat.  Aunt Petunia even said my dad fooled about with growing his back to rile my mum."  He stopped then at the look on Tonks' face. "What?"

Tonks was grinning smugly at him with her arms crossed over her chest.  "So," she said slowly, "your relatives—they tried to get your hair to change?"

"Yeah," Harry said warily as he scratched behind his ear.

"Tell me, Har," Tonks said as she propped herself up on the small table.  "Would pleasing your fine excuse for an aunt and uncle and conforming to how _they_ wanted you to look have been something you'd _want_ to do?"  

"Huh?"

Tonks waved at his head.  "Yeah sure you wish your do was perhaps neater and more tidy.  Not so—" she waved again— "all over the place.  Which, by the way, might I add that that look's something an awful lot of witches happen think is dead sexy?  But besides all that—isn't it safe to say that generally making those insufferable muggles you lived with happy by changing yourself is something you would _not_ have wanted to do?"

"Well, I guess so," Harry conceded.  There had always been something to be said for at least knowing his mere existence irritated the Dursleys as much as they'd always irritated him.  

Tonks smiled broadly.  "And wouldn't you say that if you'd have gone and gotten your hair cut and come back looking like some swot your relatives would have been right chuffed?"  She clapped her hands and grinned as Harry nodded, still a bit confused where she was going.  "Too right! Well, there you have it!"

"Have...have what, exactly?" Harry asked thinking perhaps Tonks was still a bit off from drinking some of the twins' special Butterbeer.

"The reason you _did_ want your hair to keep growing back and look just like it had before!"  She grinned and winked while pointing a finger as she said, "You _liked_ driving your aunt and uncle nutters with your hair!  You must have wanted your hair to finally look a bit different when you let it get trimmed this summer."   

Harry had to laugh at this.  _Maybe_...

"_And_," she went on as she swung her legs that hung down from where she sat upon the table, "if you say your dad could do it, too, then there you go.  I told you the ability to transfigure yourself was born and not learned.  You got it from your dad!"

Harry turned and felt the need to sit down.  The nearest thing was the raised hearthstone.  It was a bit dizzying to go from being annoyed at having yet another thing that made him special, to knowing it was actually a skill he'd inherited from his father and would have had even without the Boy Who Lived nonsense.  And yet, even though he now knew this, it didn't mean Ron wouldn't sneer or look at Harry like he was yet again getting another break.  

"You all right?" Tonks asked as she sat down beside him.  "Are you thinking up what you want to change first?"  She pointed a finger at him and sternly said, "Now don't go getting a--, er, _ahead_ of yourself.  There're three levels of training you'll need to go through.  You should be capable of everything eventually but the degree of your natural ability will determine just how much of it comes easily to you and how much of it you'll have to work at."

"How much could you do when you first started?" Harry asked her; his interest picking up now.

"Me?  I was pretty good.  I breezed through the basic and mid levels without blinking an eye and, well, anyone would have to work a bit at the advanced level—that's where you put together morphing more than one tissue set to do things like create a different body shape all together.  That takes some practice.  But after you get the hang of it, it's second nature.  Hair, as it's constantly growing –or should be—all the time, is one of the easiest things to do."

Tonks went on to explain that the most basic, beginner level of skills to be mastered by a Metamorphamagus was the ability to morph persistently growing tissues such as skin, hair, nails and also the ability to direct simple glamour type illusions to effect changes in the color of skin, hair, eyes and such.  

"Eyes?" Harry said.

Tonks nodded.  She screwed her eyes shut tight and looked to be concentrating real hard and then opened her eyes.  Shocking violet eyes fluttered back at him.  "As there aren't a whole lot of us metamorphs out there, there isn't all that much known.  I had to learn mostly from a book and that bloody well stank.  But from what I read, there seemed to be some debate on whether one could really make their eyes change color or if it was just a magical illusion of sorts.  This one bloke who wrote a book thought the whole ability to change shape was an illusion, but, well, I know he's off the mark because if I change these—" Tonks puffed out her chest and Harry couldn't help but notice as her small pair of breasts beneath the sweatshirt suddenly swelled to a gigantic bosom that rivaled Madame Rosmerta's.  Tonks grabbed them through her sweatshirt and grinned as she said, "See?  You can go on and _feel_ that _these_ aren't some silly glamour!"  

"No, thanks!" Harry said in a high voice as he abruptly stood up.  

Tonks laughed and said in a pouting tone, "You're no fun, Har.  You know how many guys would kill to have a girl who could be whatever they wanted?"  She waved at him dismissively.  "Oh, go on, I'm just teasing."  

"But I will tell you this—I only ever met one other metamorph and he was an old ex-Auror, about a hundred and forty when I met him a few years back when I was first began my training.  The only advice he over tried to give me was to make sure I never forgot who I really was.  Well, that and he mentioned something about never trying to morph your pink bits and then use them because it was apparently what got him stuck with an early retirement.  That warning may be better served to you than it was to me, I'll tell you.  Though I don't think I've heard Hermione complain...in fact, if I've heard anything, it's been a few sounds of—"

"Oo-kay!" Harry said abruptly stopping Tonks before she could possibly make him turn an even brighter shade of red.  "So where is this list McGonagall gave you, hmm?  Or, better yet, why don't you give me a chance to catch up on my post.  Maybe go help Hermione in the kitchen?"

"Aww!" Tonks sprang up and lunged to ruffle Harry's hair.  _What is it with everyone doing that today?_  "Am I annoying ickle Harrikins?" she said in a singsong voice.  

"Gerrof!" Harry said as he swatted her hand away.  

She laughed at him and harrumphed as she fixed him with a mock glare.  "Fine.  I'll leave you to your post.  But I'm off the rest of the week on holiday still and Mum's willing to stay here so I can help you train up on this.  I'll give you today off, but you best be ready to do some work with me tomorrow.  Happy?"

She grinned cheekily at Harry and he, not cracking any sort of smile whatsoever, just raised an eyebrow and said, "Thrilled.  I'm absolutely thrilled."

~

~

Harry spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon cloistered away in the library, sorting through the various post and compilations of reports that Remus had put together.  _So much for not working a few days for the holidays,_ Harry thought.  Remus had obviously been putting in long hours sifting through the reports from various Order contacts and putting all the information together.  

Harry found clippings from that very morning's various muggle newspapers.  He read them all with a sickening disbelief as they each detailed various theories of the strange new plague that was sporadically popping up around the country and reaching alarming, epidemic proportions.   

One paper was dead set on believing it was a killer fungus imported from the last excursion humans had made into space.  Another article suggested it was the work of militant terrorist cells attempting to make political statements.  And one paper had a four page spread on the whole ordeal and tried to point towards the proclivity for these outbreaks to occur in densely populated, 'poorer' communities as evidence that it was all part of an elaborate government scheme to trim down the population that was a current 'burden to the national economy'.   

_Dementors.  These are the Dementors feeding_, Harry thought disgustedly.  It was infuriating to know that the Wizarding community and Fudge especially had no real motivation to be concerned about these deaths caused by Dementors, much less even expend resources to try to put a stop to them.   

He certainly didn't agree with it, but Harry could still understand at least some of the logic that was behind this stance.  Since Dementors feeding off of muggles at least did not result in an increase of the number of Dementors like it would if they fed off of magical folk, most Wizarding world people would see the loss of muggle lives as preferable to attacks on wizards and an increasing population of Dementors.  The fact that Voldemort had the Dementors going after muggles seemed like he was almost thumbing his nose at any wizard who noticed.  There was nothing they could do to stop it without making it worse.  

_Unless we found a way to destroy Dementors_, Harry thought for not the first time.  _There's got to be a way_...  

Harry also read a summary that detailed a varied list of muggleborn wizards and witches who had been attacked on the night of the winter solstice.  There were well over three dozen separate instances of the Dark Mark being fired up into the sky and nearly thrice the number of reported deaths and sudden 'disappearances'.  

Remus had already tried to categorize them by location and victim profiles.  He'd also already started a list of brainstormed possible motives that applied to all the various victims.  _Muggleborns who married muggleborns, all worked jobs that were directly in the wizarding world, nearly all had young, not yet school age children,_ were just some of the observances that had been listed on one parchment.  

Harry didn't stop going through the various parchments, charts and maps until Remus came in and, after hearing how long Harry'd been in there doing nothing but reading over depressing reports, insisted he take a break for the rest of the afternoon.  

Harry, who actually felt like he had more questions than answers now as his mind had been wandering for the last half hour while he'd read the same things over and over, left with the promise that he would do something relaxing.  Instead, he found himself writing furiously in his journal to get all his questions and thoughts down in ink.

All the various happenings of last night's Celebration were swimming about in his mind and demanding attention. 

_Things I need to do:_

_Research methods to destroy or contain Dementors.  (Check information on Lethifolds?)_

_Figure out what my constant projection is for Occlumency and decide on an eye trick to use.  Is it strictly a thought projection or is it actually a sort of glamour bit?  _

_Love versus Hate.  What the HELL does this all mean?_

This last entry had spurred at least two pages of rambling questions and dead-end theories.  

_Love and hate are opposites.  Opposite emotions.  Opposites tend to counter each other in magic.  Voldemort suffers--what?  How does he suffer?  When I feel strong emotions that are something like love, he suffers something.    _

_Ok, I've suffered pains in my scar and visions of what he's doing when he's strongly felt anger--no--hate.  Hate--it must have been hate.  _

_Hate--if that's the prerequisite emotion behind the Killing Curse just like the required desire to cause and enjoy causing pain for the Cruciatus, then does that mean that love can be used to counter the killing curse?_  

"Obviously," Harry said out loud to himself.  "I'm alive, aren't I?"  Hedwig hooted in agreement from her perch near the window.  

_But where does he suffer any pains (if he suffers pain at all)?  He doesn't have a scar.  Where?  How? And when I've occasionally suffered these pains, I've seen visions through his eyes.  Does he see through my eyes when I get these, _he paused here and finally just wrote_, feelings?  Can he see what I see then?_  

_Ok, Voldemort was said to have killed twice that night last week when I felt my scar wake me up.  I remember two sharp pains in my scar.  Sharp.  Not dull and just aching like it has been in the past.  If he used the Killing Curse then he'd have, _Harry borrowed some of Dumbledore's words from the previous night then_, felt a tremendous burst of amplified hate when he cast it.  _

Harry recalled Dumbledore explaining not too long ago that what made the Unforgivable Curses so unforgivable was the prerequisite emotions behind them.  That other spells might be used to cause someone pain, kill or control another—however, it was the matter of the emotional _intent_ of these spells that made them classified as unforgivable.  It was unforgivable to hate another human so much that you could end their life with two mere words and a wand.  It was unforgivable to so want to cause another person complete and total pain and to take pleasure in their pain.  And it was unforgivable to want to strip a person of their will, their self-identity and take control of their own body and actions.  The fact that no known counters to these spells existed only made them that much worse.  

_But they're not completely unblockable, are they? _Harry asked himself.

He recalled flashes of green light striking tombstones as he'd fled from the graveyard after Voldemort's rebirth.  He recalled a stray blast of green light striking and obliterating a wooden desk as it missed its mark when Voldemort was fighting Dumbledore in the Ministry's Atrium.  He recalled an animated golden statue charging forth to take a blast of green light and shield Dumbledore.  And there was Fawkes, who flew right in to intercept a Killing Curse, swallow it whole and was then reborn after accepting the death.  Certainly there _were_ things that could block that spell.  _Not to mention my own status as the Boy Who Everyone Wonders How I Ever Lived_, Harry thought to himself.   

It seemed there were three very different ways then that the Killing Curse could be avoided.  There was outright dodging and a misfired spell that never hits it mark.  Then there was something, living or solid, that intercepts the line of fire and thereby shields the intended target while absorbing the blow. And finally, there was the issue of how Harry survived—love, at least as Dumbledore would simply have it.  

_What about the other two Unforgivables?  Certainly one can fight off the Imperious but is that just a matter of will power versus will power?  And what about the Cruciatus?  The opposite of pain was...pleasure?  Could someone who enjoyed feeling pain actually counter the Cruciatus then?  _

A vague and still-painful memory of Bellatrix Lestrange laughing as she threw off Harry's curse that night at the Ministry played through Harry's mind.  It was still playing through his mind when he was finally broken from his rambling thoughts and writings as Hermione knocked on his door and told him he was missing dinner.  He hadn't even gotten to all the questions he'd wanted to think over; he had yet to even address the entire topic of the sword that only seemed to pop out at odd times.  

"Come on," Hermione said, shaking her head at him.  "Remus said you've been in here all afternoon.  I thought you must have been taking a kip but you've been working?"  

Harry stretched and ran a hand through his hair as his stomach growled loudly.   

Hermione laughed and said, "I'll take that as a yes. Come along."  

~

Throughout dinner, Harry's thoughts kept refocusing themselves on the hope that Snape was healed enough to show up in person for the night's meeting.  No, it wasn't that Harry wanted to have to see the greasy git; it was that Harry had a number of questions that only Snape, as one who might have witnessed Voldemort at some of these key times, could answer.  

In fact, he'd been distracted so much by this and running through all the things he wanted to be sure and ask, that he was actually startled when, as a whole, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Moody and Snape (healed) all entered the basement where only Harry, Hermione and Remus had remained.   

"Severus," Remus said in greeting.  "So glad to see you back to your usual..._lovely_ self."

Snape sneered perfunctorily and said, "Lupin, be a good mutt and fetch me some silverware."  Snape then froze, and like an animal sensing the scent of prey, he inhaled deeply and turned his head unerringly towards the corner where Hermione had set up her now softly simmering cauldron.  

Whatever had been causing Snape to limp the day before had obviously been healed as the git stalked off towards the corner now.  

"Don't touch that!" Hermione said at once as she leapt from her seat to stand.  

Snape stopped abruptly, only a few paces away from her cauldron, and turned back to sneer at Hermione.  "And what harm, pray tell, Miss Granger, do you think _I_ would suffer upon your—" he inhaled yet again, this time so deeply that his nostrils flared.  His eyes sprung open then and he directed his narrowed glare back at Hermione.  "_Sanguineford Solution_?"

Harry was certainly a bit impressed that anyone could identify a potion merely by scent.  _But then again_, he thought, _no one else has quite the conk as Snape_.  

"What would you," Snape hissed as he now walked back towards the table, "be doing brewing a potion known as a Squib ameliorative?  Hmm?"

"What?" Hermione said, bristling defensively.

"Tell me, _Granger_, just how often have you ever brewed a potion that includes your own blood as an ingredient?"  Snape's eyes were glinting cruelly now.  

"Blood?" McGonagall said.  "Severus, what _are_ you on about?  I'd think Miss Granger would have sense enough to know—"

"I'll bet your favorite hat that that potion over there is pure Sanguineford Solution!" Snape shouted as he pointed a long sallow finger towards the offending cauldron. 

"All right now," Dumbledore said, holding his hands up, palms out, as if to persuade them all to settle down.   "We've got a fair bit to cover tonight," he said as seated himself and looked expectantly at the others to do the same.  "Severus?" he said when Snape still remained standing, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

"I know what it is I smell, Headmaster.  And if I'm not mistaken, Miss Granger's _muggle_ parents are currently visiting.  I think it would be prudent if perhaps _someone_ told her the _penalty_ for use of this potion to give non-magical beings magical powers."

"They're _people_," Remus said through clenched teeth.  

"I would assume," McGonagall said as her spine straightened and her lips thinned, "that any professor of Potions worth his salt would have been sure to have instructed their students on the penalties and ramifications of using human blood in potions!"  

Hermione was glaring at Snape and after McGonagall spoke, she said, "Not that we've _ever_ been told in class, but I _am_ aware that although the use of such a potion is prohibited to empower another _person_, it is _not_ illegal to use it to enchant an _object_!" 

Snape nodded then with a sickening smile.  "Oh yes, well, as long as it's not _illegal_ then."  He threw up his hands and looked down his long hooked nose at McGonagall and said, "Your very own Gryffindors using the Dark Arts."  He clucked his tongue and made of show of sitting down gracefully.  "My, my, what _has_ this world come to?"

"Can we get _on_ with this?" Remus said exasperatedly.  

"Wait," Harry said, frowning and rubbing the inside of his elbow.  He looked sideways at Snape and asked, "What's the deal with using blood in potions?  _What_ ramifications?"   Snape's arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowed as he stared back at Harry.  "Well?  You've _never_ told us in class—what's the deal?"

Moody exhaled loudly and started pulling out his parchments as he muttered, "We'll be here all night at this rate.  Let's get on with Order business shall we?  Some of us would like to get home at a decent hour."

Harry sat back, irritated now, and looked pointedly at Snape as he said, "I have a whole list of questions for you."  Snape merely arched an eyebrow as Dumbledore cleared his throat to begin.  

Even as Remus began with his reports, which Moody had been helping him put together, Harry couldn't help but begin to wonder if his question _had_ been about Order business.   _One more question for Snape_, he resolved as he checked his mental list.  

As they went over the same reports that Harry had spent the greater part of morning and early afternoon perusing, Snape was able to fill in some small details about various things.  He didn't know the specific names of the Death Eaters who had taken part on the attacks but he was able to link together several attacks as having been done by a common group of attackers.  He was also able to confirm that, for an unknown reason, there was a small number of live captives taken; the names and location of which, he had not a clue.

"I've familiarized myself with your interrogation report, Alastor," Snape said as he displayed his common behavior of never choosing to directly address Harry or Hermione.   "Unfortunately, only the two most incompetent and ignorant fools were snagged.  I assure you, had at least one of the other members of this team been captured, your reap of information would have been ten-fold."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.  The mere fact Harry even spoke to Snape seemed to make the man bristle.  In Harry's mind, it was all the more reason to ask these questions.  "If you know that," Harry continued, trying to sound logical, "then how is it you yourself do not know this information that might have been reaped?"

Snape refused to look at Harry directly as he answered archly, "I don't have to know what it is someone knows to know that they know something, Potter.  Any one of the Dark Lord's servants can tell you, however, which other servants are known to frequently meet with the Dark Lord himself.  There're only two reasons a servant meets with the Dark Lord: either for the imparting of information and a just reward for news that pleases our Lord or, the imparting of information and a swift punishment for the failure to please."  Snape smiled unpleasantly.  "If it's the latter, the silencing spells are cancelled so as to be sure all present can surely be reminded of the _reward_ for failure."

"Speaking of which," Remus said.  "Are you going to tell us what lead you to show up looking like you did last night?"  

Snape's glare was as icy as it had ever been.  "In case it has failed to catch your notice, _Lupin_, the nature of my duplicity requires that, in my role as a servant to the Dark Lord, I cannot _always_ be...pleasing."

Harry almost snorted out loud at the thought, _when is Snape ever pleasing to anyone_?   But he realized that of course Snape meant something other than his personality and the gravity of that was sufficient enough to help Harry's face remain impassive.   He cleared his throat.  "So, did Voldemort see you then through me?  When you were here last week?  What does he believe then?"

Snape was still cringing from the name, even after Harry had finished his question.  He then carefully examined an edge of a parchment sheaf and said, "Yes, he did.  However, I was able to convince him that I was merely answering a prearranged summons to meet here at the Order's headquarters and had kept the appointment to ensure the Order was not suspicious of any impending attacks or my absence.  The overall inadequacy of the Ministry's Auror forces was, thankfully, consistent with my expectations.  The near unilateral success of each of the Dark Lord's attacks surely helped to convince him I had not tipped anyone off.  The tip I did give, of course," he nodded to Moody here, "was one which I had discovered with the aid of some items provided by the Weasley twins."  Snape sniffed disdainfully.  "It was not known that _I_ could have tipped off anyone towards that.  

"Alastor, your idea to portkey them to your own secure location and keep all Ministry records clear of the event was a wise move.  The anti-truth serum draught each servant is secretly given results in instantaneous death upon the ingestion of Veritaserum.  Only the specially designed version of Veritaserum that I gave to you would have been properly prepared to allow the truth serum to work before triggering the toxic effects.  The fact that there were no reports of any captured Death Eaters made the Dark Lord assume that the Ministry Aurors panicked when their interrogation turned into a sudden case of double-murder.  Hmm, I should also say that the death and loss of Norman Goyle and Morrie Sprague was most upsetting to our Lord.  It seems to have upset his current research focussed on locating his lost servants, most specifically. 

"I was able to speak with young Gregory Goyle and I daresay he was quite pleased to see a familiar face.  After his father's death, he was moved from working with Wormtail to some other group of servants."  Snape sighed tiredly and said, "I believe he's now been replaced by his friend Vincent."

"Crabbe?" Harry blurted out.  He never could keep those Slytherin idiots straight.  

"Yes, Potter," Snape said.  "Crabbe."

Dumbledore, who'd been contemplatively silent through most everything, now said, "Now we've been of the belief that young Goyle and his father were somehow being used in experiments to test the Mark's ability to aid in tracking those who bear it, yes?"  Snape nodded twice.  "Hmm, and since young Crabbe's father is one of those who we currently have safely...hidden away, might it be a safe assumption that Voldemort's progress in using the Mark is sufficient to now use it directly?"

Snape vacillated before answering, "There aren't many options as far as who can be used for this work.  It requires two bearers of the Mark who are closely related by blood," he sneered at Hermione as he said this, "and I believe I've heard that the process is still quite unstable and possibly dangerous.  There may be a few other servants who have been used in these experiments but as for those who could help locate his missing and most loyal Death Eaters?  Only three of those servants have close enough blood relations that would work—Crabbe, Nott and Malfoy.  

"My Lord asked me a few days ago to summarize each of their sons' academic strengths.  Crabbe, quite unfortunately, has few to none.  His schooling has now thusly ended and I myself saw him take the Mark."

"Did he bring in many other new minions?" Moody growled.  

"A fair number from what I gather—I was in little condition to count when I saw them."

"What is that supposed to mean, Severus?" McGonagall asked, voicing Harry's immediate thought.  

Snape rubbed his temples with his forefinger and thumb before saying, "He...I was exposed by the Dark Lord.  In a way.  He held a very large gathering—the largest I've seen yet since his return, and exposed my identity to every one of them.  He announced to them all that I am his plant within Hogwarts and within the Order of the Phoenix.  There isn't a Death Eater alive now that does not believe that I am loyal to the Dark Lord.  However, he also ensured with this move that they would each be watching me and for any possible slip-ups I might make; there would be a handsome reward for anyone uncovering a traitor.  

"Then," Snape continued.  "He read off a list of every known member of the Order of the Phoenix—and it was more complete and accurate than I would have thought—to all of them and announced that he would reward any and all servants who could give information, surveillance, observances—anything, on those identified as members of the Order of the Phoenix.  He's planning the systematic execution of everyone he can get to."

A long minute of silence followed this announcement and the only sound was the crackle of the fire and Fang's snoring from where he lay sprawled out on the hearthstone.  

Finally, Remus was the first to speak, "What do you mean that his knowledge of the Order's members was more complete and accurate than you would have thought?"

"I mean," Snape said.  "That several names of the Order's most recent inductees were read off."

"That's impossible!" Hermione said at once.  She'd made sure that everyone, at the last induction night, had passed through the only doorway into their meeting room.  The doorway that she and Moody had charmed and jinxed several times over to ensure that if anyone did ever betray a secret of the Order that had been imparted to them while they were in that room, that Hermione and Moody would promptly know about it and know exactly who did it.  

Snape sneered at her.  "Your little jinxes are not _all_-encompassing you know.   There are...other ways the knowledge could have been found out."

"He's right," Remus said bitterly.  "I've thought about it a few times.  If someone even mentioned in passing that they knew any other known member, they might be suspected.  If someone was heard saying they were doing their part to stand up to Death Eaters, they might be suspected.  It only a takes a few of these casual observances to lead to a sound conclusion.  We do go to some lengths to—" he stopped abruptly.  "_Damn_!"  

"What?" Harry said.  

"Hestia," Remus said vaguely.  

"Start making sense, Lupin," Moody barked.  

"In her work on the Floo Panel, she always made sure to go through recordings of fire calls to and from Order members and was ensuring any containing information of any kind were not kept in the Ministry's archives."  Remus turned and looked wide-eyed at Dumbledore.  "I assumed she destroyed them somehow but what if she kept them?  What if she kept them at home and they were found in the attack on her house?"

Dumbledore, with his hands steepled before him, only nodded.  "Possible, yes, possible..."  

"The jinxes wouldn't work then," Hermione said absently to herself.  

Snape shifted uncomfortably and finally said, "I'm quite sure that was not how they found out."

"Why not?" Remus asked at once.

Snape pursed his lips and went back to creasing a very sharp edge of folded parchment.  "Because I was part of the team sent to her home."

"You..." Harry couldn't find the words.  _How very...Voldemort.  Send the spy you're never quite sure about to go execute one of the very people he might be working with_.  It struck Harry then that Snape must really be challenged to prove his loyalties to Voldemort far more than any other Death Eater.  Harry'd known for some time now that, with the nature of Snape's role as a spy, it was impossible for anyone but Snape to truly, _truly_ know his true loyalties until it would likely be too late for whomever it was he decided to betray.  Voldemort must also feel the same way and if nothing else, wanted to ensure Snape was known to be guilty of crimes so as to never be able to walk away free.  

"Was that when you failed to succeed?" Hermione asked quietly.  

"No," Snape snapped as his lips pursed together tightly.  He exhaled.  "In a way.  Sort of.  Well, yes."  He sighed and did the thing where he rubbed his temples with his forefinger and thumb again.  "_Obviously_, the assignment was completed.  I _succeeded_ in my given task.  However, it was apparently a failure to not bring back this known Order member alive so as to ensure she might be harvested for all possible information.  The Dark Lord said he also would have liked her as a learning tool for some of his newer recruits to practice upon.  My _just reward_ was to serve in her stead...as their..._practice_ victim."

Harry felt both Hermione, on one side of him, and Remus, on the other, wince at Snape's words.  

Snape seemed highly uncomfortable in the resultant silence and spoke harshly towards Dumbledore, who was currently giving him the most sympathetic of looks, and said, "If that is all I am needed for?  I do have places to be."

Dumbledore cleared his throat.  "Not yet, dear boy.  Not yet."  He turned towards Harry and said, "I think I've figured out a possible motive for Percy Weasley's premature notification of your Order of Merlin."

"What?" Snape cut in; utterly disbelieving.  

Dumbledore went on despite Snape's unflattering astonishment.  "Mm, yes.  It seems Percy has a deadline to meet for completing his report on the clean up and aftermath of the entire affair about the Department of Mysteries break-in last June.  He came to see me this very morning at Hogwarts and was very insistent that I help him to ensure he comply with his end of the year deadline.  He was looking for names of each and every student who was present that night and, most insistently, he was trying to recover the contents of one very elusive prophecy."

Harry's mouth was open now, just as Snape's still was and Hermione spoke up to ask, "You didn't give him any of that information, did you, Professor?"

"Oh, no, no," Dumbledore said with a laugh.  "I told him that as it all occurred while the students' care was entrusted to Hogwarts, I could not divulge that information of who had been off the grounds and who had served any time in our hospital ward.  He was...most disappointed. 

"And as for the matter of the prophecy, well, as I'm sure both of you know," he nodded to Harry and Hermione, "a great deal of recordings were destroyed that night.  However, the keeper of the Hall of Prophecy keeps a record of its own of the contents of each recording.  These records were quite sufficient enough to recreate all but one of the destroyed prophecies.  The one of course that was _not_ recreated, is the one Lord Voldemort seeks.  Percy felt compelled to inform me that there seemed to have been a break down in the keeper's records for there was no back up record of the contents of this one prophecy.  He was gravely concerned about the whole thing and I admit, I might have also have been concerned—"

"You're not _concerned_?" McGonagall said at once, looking pale and anxious.  

Dumbledore just smiled.  "Oh no, no, Minerva.  For it was I myself who made sure that record was destroyed long ago.  I also, of course, refused him outright upon his request for me to recall what I heard that night."

A bit stunned, but not so much at Dumbledore's actions but more at the notion that all their efforts to conceal the prophecy might have been outdone by Percy snagging a copy of a back up record, Harry asked, "But what does this have to do with the Order of Merlin?" 

"Ah," Dumbledore said, nodding at Harry.  "The keeper of the Hall of Prophecy was able to deduce that since you or Voldemort are the only ones who could have lifted the recording from its shelf, then you were most likely to have touched it and taken it.  Well, you were at least the only one they might dare to approach and ask about it.  Percy was not aware that it had broken and I am quite sure, believed you at least knew its contents and possibly even had it in your possession.  I think he was looking to get to you to grill you on what you knew.  I assured him it had been destroyed that night without anyone hearing it and suggested politely that he not bother you, Harry.  I imagine he was acting upon Cornelius' orders and it's quite possible that Cornelius himself may press the issue whenever it is he sees fit to return from holiday."  

"Oh!" Snape said, sitting up sharply.  "I've just remembered!"  Harry had never seen Snape as unreserved as he was now; his hands moving as he spoke and looked up into the air, focussing distantly as he recalled, "It was something I overheard last night before I finally managed to leave.  There was a pause in the, er, _activities_ and, it's a bit hazy, but I am quite sure I heard Igor Karkaroff's voice report to the Dark Lord that he had succeeded in his mission but that they had not located some book.  Gringotts—he mentioned Gringotts and I most vividly remember the mention of Fudge along with a number of derogatory names—all correct, of course, and then—_then_ the Dark Lord raised a toast to Cornelius Fudge.  He said, I'm quite sure now, 'May the dragons of Gringotts roast you alive if you shall ever find wit to escape your prison.'  They all toasted the Minister then.  The last thought I recall thinking was that the Minister was as good as dead."

*~*~*              ~          *          ~          *~*~*

    * * * * * *  

* * *


	45. Chapter 48 Blood

* * *

**Chapter 48. Blood**

 "Oh!" Snape said, sitting up sharply.  "I've just remembered!"  Harry had never seen Snape as unreserved as he was now; his hands moving as he spoke and looked up into the air, focussing distantly as he recalled, "It was something I overheard last night before I finally managed to leave.  There was a pause in the, er, _activities_ and, it's a bit hazy, but I am quite sure I heard Igor Karkaroff's voice report to the Dark Lord that he had succeeded in his mission but that they had not located some book.  Gringotts—he mentioned Gringotts and I most vividly remember the mention of Fudge along with a number of derogatory names—all correct, of course, and then—_then_ the Dark Lord raised a toast to Cornelius Fudge.  He said, I'm quite sure now, 'May the dragons of Gringotts roast you alive if you shall ever find wit to escape your prison.'  They all toasted the Minister then.  The last thought I recall thinking was that the Minister was as good as dead."

"What do you mean the last thought you recall?" Harry asked at once, nearly blustering with confusion.  "And how can you only be remembering this _now_ all of a sudden?"

Snape seemed unaware that Harry was the one speaking to him, much less speaking to him without so much as an ounce of respect.  He was stroking his upper lip with one long sallow finger and looking distantly off into space as he answered.  "I knew I was near ready to pass out before Igor arrived.  I'm not sure if, when I finally did, it was due to exhaustion or if it was because, with the new _cheer_ of those gathered, I was further used as a means to 'celebrate'."  This, he said with a rather surprising amount of ease.    

"Either way, by the time I regained consciousness, I've no idea how long I'd been forgotten.  I was off to the side of the room and the mood had changed considerably.  They were all whispering and scrambling about like mad.  I was able to overhear that the Dark Lord had suffered some episode and that he had collapsed.  Some others who, like myself, are aware of our Lord's inconsistent health over the past several months, commented that this seemed to be the worst yet."  Snape seemed to snap back into himself then and looked from Remus, to Harry, to Dumbledore and then said, "There was a push to clear out the room we were in; it is rather bad form for an all powerful and mighty Dark Lord to be seen as weak.  I managed to head out with the crowd and that's when I Apparated here to Headquarters."

"Fudge has been unreachable to anyone this past holiday," Moody commented as even his electric blue magical eye paused to stare off thoughtfully into space.

"It sounds like his holiday may have been extended," Remus said, absently.

Harry looked to Dumbledore. Gringotts, Fudge, a book—a book that had _not_ been located—this was all familiar sounding stuff to Harry.  _But now, how did it all tie in to Voldemort?_

Dumbledore, who was quite obviously deep in thought, pinched the sides of his half-moon glasses as he looked intently across at Snape.  "I think we need to contact our friends at Gringotts."

"It's Sunday," Moody said. "They're closed today."

Dumbledore was already nodding.  "William might have a means to contact someone on a Sunday."

Remus rose and said, "I'll call him on the fire right now, shall I?"

Dumbledore nodded.  "Yes, yes, please do, Remus."

"Professor," Hermione said, making both Snape and Dumbledore turn towards her.  "Does this mean Fudge, in his efforts to get into the Malfoy vault to seek out this book, was actually working for Voldemort?  And what about Karkaroff—where does he come into this?  I assumed when we heard he'd been tracked down, that he'd been..." Hermione hesitated to go on.

"Killed?" Snape said with an arched eyebrow.  Hermione frowned but nodded then.    "It's never so simple," Snape said derisively.  "Igor lived a soft life for many years with the Dark Lord gone.   While it was true that at one point he'd rather flee that life than wilfully prostrate himself before the feet of the Dark Lord, wilful submission can suddenly look extraordinarily appealing when compared to admitting yourself a coward and deserter."

"I think I ought to track down Amelia," Moody said, rising with the aid of his walking staff.  "I'll summon Shacklebolt at once, as well.  If there's been an assassination of the Minister—useless fool—then she's now at high risk as the most likely to take his job."

Dumbledore looked to Moody.  "Yes, and I shall need to prepare to call together the Wizengamot.  However, it _is_ still unconfirmed, Alastor."

"Mmm," Moody said with his lips pressed tightly together as he rose to leave.  "One can always hope."

~

Hermione was up and listening in as best she could as Remus carried on a conversation through the Floo.  Dumbledore had just popped open the fob on a golden pocket watch and was speaking instructions to Professor McGonagall.  Snape was the only one, along with Harry, who was still deep in thought at the table.  

"Professor?" Harry said watching Snape closely.  Snape didn't acknowledge Harry at all.  Harry leaned forward across the table and cleared his throat, "Professor..._Snape_?"  

The greasy head snapped up and glared across now at Harry.  

Satisfied he now had Snape's full attention, Harry asked, "What do you mean when you say Voldemort's health has been inconsistent?  For how long?  Have you ever _seen_ him suffer an attack? And where—_how_ does he suffer?"

Snape's eyes were narrowed into slits as one hand drummed lazily upon the table.  "Perhaps if you've not been told, it's because you're not meant to know?" he said archly.

"Okay," Remus said breathlessly, pulling himself out of the fire and dusting off his knees.  "Bill said he was just about to Floo us over here before I popped in.  There _was_ a break in at Gringotts last night and he was just sent word to notify the Order.  The Goblins say Harry can either come himself or send someone in his stead to witness what they've found.  They also suggested Dumbledore come along.  The Floo into Gringotts has been closed for Sunday but they said it'd be open to whoever had possession of Harry's key."  He turned to Dumbledore then.  "Albus, I'd assume that means yours has been activated to allow you through as well." 

"I want to go," Harry said at once.  He looked at Dumbledore.  "To where shall we Apparate to catch a Floo?"

"Idiot fool," Snape hissed.  "You don't go anywhere when your presence has been requested.  Do you always answer every invitation to head into a trap?"

Harry frowned and glowered back at Snape.  "The Goblins are—"

"—A varied lot of ambitious and self-serving creatures!  Just because _some_ political heads may see you as a possible champion to their underprivileged rank doesn't mean another wouldn't do the Dark Lord's bidding for his own gain.  Are you a _complete_ ignoramus?"

"Severus!" McGonagall exclaimed with disapproval.

"I think Snape does have a point, Harry," Remus said begrudgingly.  "That they asked for you like this might be a sign to take precaution and I'd feel better if you stayed here."

"They asked for Professor Dumbledore, too!" Harry said.  "And they said I didn't _have_ to come; I could send someone in my stead!"

"Which would be my advice—to send someone in your stead," Dumbledore spoke firmly.  "If our findings at Gringotts reveal the Minister has either committed a crime of breaking and entering or if he is no fit state to govern, then I will be obliged to step in and as the Chief Warlock and call together the Wizengamot.  Severus," he said skewering Snape on his intensive gaze, "I'd like for you to remain here until I contact you and, in the mean time, answer whatever questions Harry may have about what you know about Lord Voldemort."

Harry saw Snape's lip curl at this and his elation at having free reign to question Snape distracted him as Dumbledore asked McGonagall to discreetly follow along when they would leave for Diagon Alley.  

"Harry?" Remus said. "I'll go with Albus then, if you like?  Just lend me your key to get through.  I think we'll try to walk there first but we may need to Floo and I may need it to prove you sent me."  

Harry could see he would only look more childish and immature if he continued his protest in wanting to go and so, dug out his Bottomless Moneybag from his pocket.  Handing it over to Remus, he said, "If Fudge is done for, find out what that means as to the favour the Goblins asked of me."

Remus' eyes widened as if he'd forgotten about that and then he nodded.  He left then, following Dumbledore and McGonagall out the door.  

Snape was sitting back in his chair sullenly with his arms crossed over his chest and eying Harry.  "Granger—_leave,_" he demanded imperiously.  

"_What_!?" she shrilled from where she still stood near the fireplace.

"She can stay," Harry ground out.  

Hermione bristled as she said, "I'll not leave you in here to attack Harry like you did the _last_ time you were alone with him!"  Snape sneered at her now.  "Besides, I have every right to be here!"  She bit her lip as if just recently she had yelled at a professor and almost cheekily added, "Professor."

"Perhaps," Snape said silkily.  "But I wasn't asked to answer _your_ questions or to entertain you.  So _leave_.  Otherwise, _I _leave. "

Hermione's mouth snapped shut in anger.  

"We'll be fine," Harry said.  She looked at him like he was crazy.  "I need answers and if anyone has them, it's him," he said with a nod towards Snape.  

Hermione looked like she still wished to protest but reluctantly left them alone in the kitchen.  As soon as the door shut behind her, Snape whipped out his wand and cast a quick succession of locking spells, silencing charms and jinxes on the door. 

Only when he turned back to Harry, halfway through repocketing his wand, did Harry realize he had drawn his wand in response to Snape's sudden actions.  

"Suddenly on your guard now, Potter?" he asked with a leer.  

Harry carefully schooled his face to remain expressionless as he put his wand away.  "Paranoid we'll be overheard, Professor?" Harry countered.

Snape looked smug and folded his arms over his chest again.  "There's more than just your girlfriend here who might wander down.  I _always_ take precautions to ensure _my_ safety."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this and said, "I've never doubted _that_."  Snape still wore a smug smile and looked challengingly back at Harry.  " Have you ever _seen_ Voldemort suffer one of these attacks?" Harry asked then.  

Snape's icy cool had faltered at hearing the name and, through clenched teeth, Snape said, "You will refrain from speaking that _name_ while I am forced to indulge your little sleuthing expedition, Potter, or you shall soon find yourself alone!"

"Have you?" Harry repeated, glaring back.  

"Yes," was Snape's curt answer.  

"When?"

"This summer."

"What did it look like?  Describe this 'attack'.  _Please_."

Snape pushed his chair back from the table slightly and crossed his legs.  He contemplated his answer before saying, "He had a fit of sorts.  Shuddering, chills, weakness, delirium.  He at first thought one of those of us near him had tried to cast the Cruciatus on him.  If his most trusted Bellatrix had not been one among us who witnessed it, I doubt he'd have believed us so easily."

"So he feels pain?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Are you _unfamiliar_ with the Cruciatus?" Snape asked archly.

"_Where_, exactly?" Harry asked, ignoring Snape's last question.

Snape's brow furrowed. "What do you mean 'where'?" he demanded crossly.   

Harry bit his lower lip and calmly repeated, "_Where_ does he feel _pain_?"

Snape gave him a look where his eyebrows were arched so high they nearly made the ever-present sneer unnoticeable.  "The Cruciatus causes excruciating pain _all over_.  Do you require a demonstration?"

Harry glared at the sneer on Snape's mouth.  _Bastard_.  Harry was about to explain that he had thought it would be localized somewhere, like it was with his scar, but he snapped his mouth closed as he thought, _I have no need to justify myself to you_.   

Harry kept his mouth closed and tempered his rising annoyance with Snape before asking, "_When_ were the other times you witnessed him suffering these...fits?"

Snape studied the back of his hand as he pursed his lips together in thought and then answered, "I've only witnessed it one other time personally and that was the first time he suffered—that would have been near the time of your..._birthday_."  The word 'birthday' was spoken as if the mere effort of conceiving of such an event left a foul taste in Snape's mouth.  

Harry leaned forward then, his mind trying to work furiously through all of this.  "And he saw me then?  Us?  Or..." he recalled the times when he'd had visions through his scar; after Voldemort had regained his body, Harry would see these visions through the eyes of Voldemort.  _Through the eyes..._  "He would have seen Hermione then, right?"  Harry looked up and across at Snape then.

Snape merely raised one eyebrow and intoned, "He did identify her as the one with whom you were engaging in—"

"And Voldemort, he had this vision, this instance of seeing through my eyes while he suffered this attack, correct?" Harry cut in, using the Voldemort's name for leverage against Snape.  

Snape was grinding his teeth together, the only indication that Harry had again casually mentioned the name.  "As far as I can tell, _yes_."  

Harry started to chew on a fingernail as he gazed unseeingly at the far wall.  He was drawn back to the present when Snape, in what actually sounded closer to a growl, cleared his throat loudly. 

Harry turned to him then and asked blithely, "Is hate the driving emotion for the Killing Curse?"  Snape's fingers stopped drumming and his mouth hung open at hearing this.   Harry went on, oblivious to Snape's reaction.  "It has to be.  I think Professor Dumbledore mentioned it once, but I can't entirely recall."

"Potter," Snape said abruptly, straightening himself rigidly in his chair.  "Are you honestly asking me for instructions of how to cast the Killing Curse?"  The contempt then grew more evident upon his face as he said, "You honestly think _you_ could use _that_ to defeat the Dark Lord?" 

"No," Harry answered at once.  _Either must die at the hand of the other..._  That somehow seemed to imply that a spell cast of a wand was not going to do either in.  "I don't believe either he or I would be able to successfully use that spell against each other."  _Then there's the whole brother wand thing, the fact that he's something more than entirely mortal supposedly and the fact that I now suspect that love can be used to counter that curse somehow._  "At least, not at this point.  Tell me," Harry said as he narrowed his gaze and crossed his arms over his chest.  "Just what _is_ the deal with using blood in potions?"  

Snape's gaze narrowed to meet Harry's and Harry noted how the inky black eyes seemed to deepen in an attempt to draw him in as Snape wondered why Harry cared.  

Harry blinked and thrust his chin out and up.    "If you just tell me what the deal is, then I'll tell you why it matters to me."  Harry was quite of the belief that Snape, just as all the Death Eaters who knew from Voldemort himself, already knew Harry's blood had been used to resurrect Voldemort.  

Snape, almost silently, rose and swept around his chair.  At first Harry thought he was leaving but he paused then, eyeing the cauldron that simmered softly in the dimly lit basement corner.   Slowly, Snape took one step and then another towards the simmering Sanguineford Solution.  

"You've been training under the tutelage of one of the foremost blood alchemists of all time and you still are unaware the powers of blood, Potter?" Snape asked softly without looking back.  

Harry scowled at the back of Snape's greasy head.  "Was I to learn by osmosis and by just being near you?  You never covered that in any—"

"Not _me_, Potter," Snape said as his head turned to the side to only look back out of the corner of his eye at Harry.   "Your ignorance is utterly appalling—Headmaster Dumbledore!  Perhaps they don't interest you because _you're_ not on one but even a Chocolate Frog card can tell you for what the Headmaster is most famous."  

Harry now vaguely recalled the cards mentioning Nicholas Flamel, the alchemist who made the Philosopher's Stone; Dumbledore's Chocolate Frog card was so common it didn't even merit more than a glance.  

"Surely you do recall at least two weeks worth of lessons where I tried to teach you the protocols for the use of Dragon's blood and the essential properties of this?  You _do_ recall that your own Headmaster is the one who discovered those twelve essential uses of Dragon's blood, do you not?"  Snape snorted and then said, "Then again, that was the year _you_ were relieved of taking end of the term examinations so I guess there is no evidence either way of whether you paid any attention at all."

Harry did recall Dragon's blood being the ingredient necessary for the most potent variety of a Strengthening Solution.  It was known as the most powerful of all magical blood substances, (closely followed by Graphorn blood) and Harry did now recall them learning somewhat about blood as an ingredient in potions.  "We never learned about human blood being used in potions, though," he said.

Snape pivoted, fully facing Harry now with his arms crossed over his chest.  "Potter, I'm here to humour the Headmaster's request that I answer your inane questions about the Dark Lord—not for a Remedial Potions lesson."

"Yes, you ended those _Remedial Potions_ lessons, didn't you?" Harry said snidely.  He quickly pushed forward, before Snape could retort, and said, "I _am_ asking about Voldemort.  _My_ blood was one of the key ingredients used in the potion to resurrect him, if you would bother to recall."

Snape's eyes were narrowed so far that Harry could barely see a glitter of black through the slits.  "Dumbledore knows this?" he asked shrewdly.  

"He knew the night it happened, yes."  Snape seemed to think on this.  "You did know that, didn't you?" Harry asked uncertainly.  "Sir?"

"You _willingly_ gave your blood for this potion?" Snape asked in a dangerously low voice.  

"No!  You think--!  Like _I_ would--!"  Harry scowled.  "_No_.  _Wormtail_ had me tied up to a bloody tombstone!  _He_ took my blood!"  

Snape seemed to relax at this.  "At least you weren't willing," he muttered as he dropped his arms to his side.  Snape sighed heavily and sat back down in his chair again.  "He was surely trying to ensure he resurrected himself to be at least as powerful as you.  What else do you know about the potion he used?"  This last question was asked as Snape leaned forward intently.

Harry thought back.  "My blood, of course.  Dust from his father's grave—bone of the father, he said.  Unicorn blood, I think."

"For sustenance of soul," Snape muttered.

"Venom...from Nagini."  Harry paused as he saw Snape's brow furrow in thought.

"And?  Do you recall?"

"Wormtail's hand," Harry said as the memory of that night replayed itself in his mind.

"Flesh of a servant," they chorused and then looked at one another; surprised.  

"It's what he called it when he spoke the incantation," Harry said by way of a wide-eyed explanation.  "Flesh of a servant, bone of the father and blood of a foe, as I recall."

Snape sneered as if he knew Harry couldn't have known any such thing on his own.  "Flesh of a servant to rebind his new body to the Mark."  He lapsed back into contemplation then, ignoring Harry as he rubbed his thumb and forefinger about his temples.  "Yes, yes, I can see why."

"Why?" asked Harry curiously as he leaned forward even further across the table.  "What does the Mark do?"  Snape made a sour face as if to insult Harry's ignorance and before he could speak, Harry said, "It's a Protean Charm of sorts, I know.  He touches it and it—" Harry stopped as he recalled Voldemort pressing a long white finger to the brand on Wormtail's arm.  As this had occurred, Wormtail had howled in pain and Harry recalled his scar nearly splitting open in such intense pain.  

Snape was absently rubbing his left forearm and grimacing.  "It causes a relayed reaction to all the other Marks.  They turn from red to black, indicating his summons."  His voice sounded bitterly haunted as he looked off into space and spoke. "A servant willing gives a drop of his blood to the Dark Lord in exchange for the Mark and promises of unparalleled power.  

"Blood, Potter, of a witch or wizard—any magical being for that matter—is purportedly the conduit for our magic.  Giving your blood is akin to giving of your magic.  The lifeblood of a wizard is known to be a very sacred thing.  It is not something to be taken lightly and the transfusing of blood among wizards has long been regarded as a Dark Art.  

"The Dark Lord, through the blood so willingly given by each of his servants, is thus able to call upon the magical reserves of those bound to him.  When surrounded by his servants, the Dark Lord is empowered not only by that which is inherently his but also by all those who willing donated their blood —their _power_—to him."  Snape's gaze came back into focus as he abruptly halted his lecture of sorts.  "Hmm, the Dark Lord and you have the same blood flowing through your veins," he said mostly to himself as he again rubbed absently at his left forearm.

~

~ * ~

~

Remus Lupin walked back around the side of deserted, towering white monolith that was Gringotts Bank.  "Nothing?" he asked the somber face of Albus Dumbledore.  

Dumbledore just shook his head.  "Mrreow," sat a prim tabby cat from where she sat stiffly at their feet.  

They'd all Apparated into Diagon Alley together and had both done a survey around the bank, trying every door and window they could to get in.  

"I think, Remus, we will need to Floo in, after all," Dumbledore said while his eyes still roamed the front of the pure white building.   "Let's you and I head to the Leaky Cauldron and use Tom's Floo. Minerva," he said looking down at the tabby.  "If you might keep a watch from out here?  Just in case...just in case."

It was late on a Sunday evening and traffic all down Diagon Alley was virtually nonexistent as both Dumbledore and Remus Disapparated from the blustery winds of the open street into the small courtyard just behind the back of the pub.

Only a handful of leisurely conversing patrons occupied the pub as Remus entered in front of Dumbledore.  None took notice of the two newest arrivals that headed straight towards the community Floo.  Remus turned back to see that Dumbledore had both pulled his hood up and over his head, hiding his gleaming white hair and pulled his cloak closed to hide his matching and trademark beard.  

"I'll go first, Albus?"

Dumbledore nodded.  "I'm right behind you."

The fire was crackling merrily in the hearth as Remus stepped up to it and, from an inner cloak pocket, drew out a handful of Floo powder and tossed it in.  "Gringotts Bank, Diagon Alley!" he enunciated as he stepped into the glowing green flames.  

With a rush, Remus hurtled through the Floo and within seconds, he felt his feet hit solid ground.  He stepped forward to keep his balance found himself in the pristine white marble lobby of Gringotts.  A rush of air behind him announced the arrival of Dumbledore.  

"Keys, please," a curt, nasally voice intoned.  

Remus, digging out Harry's moneybag from his pocket, turned to see a menacing looking Goblin wearing the red and gold guard uniform advancing towards them who held what looked to be a long, pointy-ended spear in one hand.  

"Good evening," Dumbledore said congenially as if being greeted by menacing, spear-wielding Goblins was an everyday occurrence.   He smiled as he handed over a burnished brass key to the Goblin and nodded when they key was handed back.  

The Goblin then turned to Remus; his eyes narrowed sceptically, and extended a long-fingered hand in wait for the key.  Remus dropped the soft green velvet bag into the outstretched hand and couldn't help but feel apprehensive about how closely the Goblin seemed to inspect the bag.  Finally, the bag was proffered back to Remus and the Goblin turned as he said, "Follow me."

With a look to Dumbledore who merely nodded once, they followed the Goblin, who still held his spear tightly, across the polished marble floor of the lobby to a door off to the side.  Through the door they were led down a narrow stone passageway that was only dimly lit with torches.  A cart was perched at the top of a steep slope and two other Goblins dressed in black turned now to see the new arrivals.  

"Garook," Dumbledore greeted.  "It is good to see you again.  Although, I do wish the circumstances were not as they seem to be."

"Chief Warlock Dumbledore," the wizened Goblin said in greeting.  They both shook hands and then the Goblin turned to Remus.  After looking him up and down, he said, "Mister Potter sent you, I presume?"

"Yes, yes he did."  

"Hmm, yes," Garook said noncommittally.  "This," he gestured towards the other Goblin who had stood back until now, "is Panog.  He was the one assigned to do today's security check.  How much did Ragnok pass along in his message to you?"

Remus looked to Dumbledore who answered, "William Weasley gave us the message that you believe there was a break-in and that we might come to witness what you found as a result of this.  Tell me, was anything stolen?"

Remus noted Dumbledore had avoided mention that they'd had any word of the break-in besides that which came from the Goblins.  

"Well," Garook hedged.  "There appears to be no theft of gold or goods, however, _we_ suffered a loss, nonetheless.  Come, I shall show you."

He stepped then into the waiting cart and waited until Remus and Dumbledore had also wedged themselves into the tiny cart before signalling to Panog who, with a wave, sent the cart rocketing down the steep slope.  

Down, down, down they whizzed as the only thing to occasionally catch Remus's eye were intermittent streaks of fire from torches along the stone walls.  The ride continued well past the previous cart trips Remus had taken.  Once, Remus had accompanied Sirius to his vault and they had travelled far, far underground to where the oldest and most guarded of vaults were located and now, Remus figured, that was exactly where they were headed now.  

Finally, the cart slowed and then abruptly came to a halt.  Remus felt like they were miles and miles below ground and he could hear the steady dripping of water not far below.  

"I assume," Garook spoke as they climbed out of the cart.  "That Mister Potter has shared with you the conversation he had with us recently?"  

Dumbledore nodded.  "Yes, Harry told both Remus and I of it the same day you spoke with him."

"Well, then you know to which vault it was the former Minister was intent upon gaining access?"

"Former?" Dumbledore asked sharply.  

The Goblin smiled in what, with his pointy sharp teeth, effect quite a nasty grin.  "Unless it is your practice to keep a dead man appointed the title of Minister, yes, I believe former is quite accurate."  

Upon the damp stone floor, barely illuminated by a torch several yards away, the form of a portly man was sprawled, unmoving and judging from the stillness of the man's chest, not breathing.  

Dumbledore, who stood now above the prone form looking down, turned to Garook and pulled his wand as he asked, "Do you mind if I have a look?"

With a nasty smile and a nod, Garook nodded.  

Dumbledore's wand tip then illuminated the immediate area and there, upon the cold stone, was indeed the body of a very dead Cornelius Fudge.  Remus could see the skin of the former Minister's face was tinged blue and was papery white.  The eyes were shut tight as if in pain when rigor mortis had set in and the mouth was gaped open, stuck in some silent scream or last gasp of breath.  

"He was found _inside_ the vault here," Garook announced almost with pride.  "The vault of one Lucius M. Malfoy.  Our vaults, of course, are airtight and well, when one who is not an authorized Goblin tries to gain entry to one of these vaults, they will find themselves gaining entry indeed to the vault.  But alas, they will not open the door.  He suffocated."  

Remus's gaze remained fixed on the gaping mouth of the corpse before him.

Dumbledore then cleared his voice and, pointing the light of his wand at a spot upon the stone floor, asked, "This spot here, Garook.  It looks like..."

"Blood!" Garook spat.  "Yes, we've tended to _our_ own," the Goblin said nastily as he glared down at a large stained section of stone floor.  "Panog, this afternoon, found the slain body of one of _our_ own.  The one assigned yesterday's security shift was found here outside the vault.   His throat had been slit and he was drenched in a pool of his own blood.  The only conclusion _we_ can draw from this is that this former _Minister_ of yours used him to gain access to this point and then, thinking he had gotten as far as he needed, murdered him in cold blood and tried his best to get into the vault."  Garook laughed then and the sounded echoed off the stone cavern that surrounded them.  

"Are you sure, Garook, that nothing was taken from inside the vault?  There is no evidence of any of the vaults contents being disturbed in any way?"  Dumbledore looked keenly at the elder Goblin whose eyes shone eerily in the flickering torchlight. 

Garook looked sharply at Dumbledore.  "The contents of the vault have not changed.  _Nothing_ has been stolen!"  

"But did anything look like it had been disturbed?" Dumbledore pressed.

Garook shrugged as he said, "Well, I imagine your Minister struggled a bit and that might account for a few things knocked here or there.  I don't imagine suffocating is an instantaneous death, but then again, I would not know."  

A rattling noise then could be heard off in the distance and from far above them.  Remus, the first to hear it, looked up towards the direction of the noise.  

"Remus?" Dumbledore inquired.  

"Perhaps another cart," Remus answered.  "I can hear something approaching."  

At this announcement, Remus found Garook looking up at him with a very shrewd expression.   "I hear nothing," he said almost accusingly as Remus keenly perceived the rattling sound to be drawing nearer still.  

Dumbledore then laid a hand upon Garook's shoulder, making the Goblin nearly jump.  "Remus, I'll have you know, has exceptional hearing," he said.  The rattling sound then became audible to both Dumbledore and Garook and they looked unerringly up at a cart that was now visibly careening down the track towards them.  

Remus then nearly fell over in shock when he heard Dumbledore further explain to Garook, "Remus, you see, is a werewolf."  He looked meaningfully over his silver half-moon glasses, which glinted in the torchlight and added, "As I am sure you might suspect by now, our friend Harry makes friends based upon his own mind and not the prejudices of common society."

Remus felt a mingled sting at being used as a token example of tolerance and sheer admiration for the way Dumbledore could mount an effort to politically ingratiate a Goblin, no less.  

The cart rattling towards them grew louder still as it became visible out of the vast darkness surrounding them.  As the cart slowed and came to a jerking halt behind the other cart, they observed the passengers to be two large goblins dressed in the red and gold uniforms and both wielded the long, pointy spears as the one who had greeted them from the Floo.  

Garook then stepped forward and began rapidly conversing in a series of what, to Remus, sounded like unintelligible babbling and guttural throat clearings. All Goblins spoke their own language of Gobbledegook and it was only those who interfaced with the wizarding world who ever bothered to learn or speak English.  

It was common belief, Remus knew, that when Goblins used their own language of Gobbledegook to converse with other Goblins while in the presence of humans, they were likely speaking ill of the humans.   Some folks would swear they'd heard that the Goblins' language didn't even have a word for 'human' or 'man' but instead, merely used a term meaning 'naïve beast' to refer to people.  Remus told himself this was all very likely just made up rumours and meant to belittle what people didn't or couldn't understand.  But despite knowing this, he still felt an uneasy chill crawl up his spine as the Goblins carried on their veiled conversation in front of him and occasionally turned to look back where he and Dumbledore stood; just in front of where Fudge's body still lay.  At least he was there with Dumbledore at his side, he thought.

Finally, after a few minutes, the Goblins in the cart flicked a switch on the side of the cart and zoomed back up the steep ramp from which they came.  

"So," Dumbledore said as Garook turned back to them.  "Your guards have completed their search of the underground and found nothing?"

Dumbledore spoke Gobbledegook.  Remus was gobsmacked; relieved but shocked nonetheless.  

Garook seemed to be taken a back at first as well but recovered quickly.  "Yes, yes.  Nothing.  You will take your Minister, yes?   We must then agree on what to make of this incident.  An announcement to the public must be carefully considered.  We've worked all day since the bodies were found to investigate our keep and I am confident in our assessment.  You may perform your magic to remove of those remains.  Come then, we'll leave now."

Remus watched as Dumbledore nodded and with a flick of his wand, transfigured the corpse of Fudge into a glass bottle, shrunk it and picked it up to then drop it in a cloak pocket.  As they climbed back into the cart, Remus was thankful it wasn't his pocket in which the dead Minister resided.  Garook, he noted, kept one eye on Remus the entire cart ride back up to the main floor of the bank.  

When they emerged back into the brightly lit entrance hall, there was a gathering of about a half-dozen Goblins dressed in black like Garook.  They all turned and wordlessly greeted Garook and Dumbledore.  Remus felt he was merely being eyed suspiciously by most of them.  

While Dumbledore requested permission and then made fire calls to invite over some well-trusted Aurors to collect Fudge and the one who he, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, would be appointing acting and interim Minister of Magic, the Goblins continued to converse in whispers among themselves.  

Remus kept running over the differences in assumptions between what he and Dumbledore likely thought and what the Goblins seemed to believe.  The Goblins believed that Fudge had somehow coerced the Goblin assigned Saturday's security detail to lead him to the vault of Lucius Malfoy.  They also believe that upon getting to where he wanted to go, Fudge then murdered the Goblin he used to get there before attempting to enter the vault.  When Fudge then attempted to enter the vault, it sounded like he was then sucked into the airtight vault with no means for escape and there, he then suffocated to death.  

But what the Goblins did not know was that someone else had to have been with the Minister and this Goblin who had been slain.  Whether it was Igor Karkaroff himself as Snape had suggested or someone Karkaroff had working for him, the man somehow knew that Fudge had ended up trapped inside the vault.  But Karkaroff had also somehow gotten into the vault and been able to search it since he reported back to not finding the books or book he sought.  

And it was a book, Remus was sure now, that Karkaroff had reported back to not finding; in fact, it sounded like one book in particular, if he recalled Snape's word correctly.  The _same_ book--it had to be--that the Goblins had confided to Harry that Fudge was after and believed resided in the Malfoy vault.  Which meant...that Fudge had been pressing forth on Gringotts on behalf of Lord Voldemort.  Remus wondered if it had been by choice or because he'd been coerced in some manner.  Either way, Fudge had failed and had now been disposed of.  

"Mister Lupin?" Garook asked, startling Remus out of his thoughts.  Garook, who Remus could now clearly see by the markings upon his suit was _the_ chief governor of Gringotts London, stood beside a second, black-clad Goblin.  "This is Sajak--another governor who has met with Mister Potter on occasion.  

Remus nodded in greeting and proffered a hand to shake.  

"Excellent," Garook said pleasantly after they shook.  "We mean to pass along a message to Mister Potter."  

"That's why I'm here," Remus said with a courteous nod.  

"Very well, very well," Garook said and then gestured to Sajak to speak.

"Yes, please tell him that since we had no further pressure from your former Minister to meddle with the affairs of our long-standing agreements, since we are now quite sure that there will no longer be any pressure to gain access to any particular vaults and since we are most very certain that your Minister will no longer be of a bother to us, please inform Mister Potter that we're quits on this."

Remus nodded, relieved to hear that, and nodded as he shook Sajak's hand yet again.  

Garook then spoke again, "We're fairly certain that Chief Warlock Dumbledore will move things along in an amenable fashion but should the unlikely event occur that there is a wizard backlash against the death of your Minister...might we have your word that Mister Potter, in light of the openness we extended tonight, would stand by our claims in this event?"  

"You think there might be suspicion that a Goblin or Goblins killed the Minister?" Remus asked with widened eyes.  Garook and Sajak exchanged a brief glance.  Remus smiled then.  "Unless I've greatly underestimated the popularity of our former Minister, I highly doubt that possibility."  

Garook bowed his head in acknowledgement.  "Yes, we understand that but, just in the rare and unfortunate event...?" now

At that moment, Remus truly appreciated how Harry could have felt pressured into making the promise that he had just two weeks ago.  It felt to Remus that they were asking something that of course you would promise unless you knew more than they knew.   Remus swallowed thickly.  

"Well, I suppose...I see no reason to believe that there would now be any case to be made against you and as Harry will take my and Albus' word for it, I feel I can say the same for Harry.  So, barring any unforeseen and new truths that you bring to light, yes, I feel we can say we will stand by you."

"And I can agree with that," said Dumbledore in a strong voice from behind Remus.  Remus hadn't realized how uncomfortable he'd felt saying that until he heard Dumbledore speak now.  "I think Remus, Harry and I all have a very sound idea of who was behind the Minister's actions and that his death was of his own making or at worst, yet another to lay at the feet of Lord Voldemort."  

Both Goblins flinched visibly at the name, but Garook, recovering first, nodded with a gleam in his eye that suggested he'd suspected the Minister's actions had been connected to Voldemort.  

"Remus?" Dumbledore said with a hand upon his shoulder.  "Kingsley, Alastor and Amelia are all on their way over here.  I fear I am in for a very long night and an even longer week.  Go on back to Headquarters now and please do make sure that both Harry and Severus are still alive.  And let our furry friend know that she may give up her watch.  Tell her I expect to be quite busy as a result of tonight's news."

~

~

Returning to Grimmauld Place, Remus had to knock loudly on the kitchen door that had been spelled shut several times over.  Once the door was unsealed, he found Harry quietly lost in his own thoughts as he stared off at some distant point.  Snape also seemed oddly (to Remus) subdued and not at all seething like he had been expecting.  

"We found Fudge," Remus announced as he took a deep breath.  

"Dead or alive?" Snape queried.

"Dead," Remus said as he exhaled.  "Suffocated in the Malfoy vault."

"Which Malfoy vault?" Snape asked.

Remus shrugged.  "Didn't know they had more than one.  They said Lucius Malfoy's.  It was in the lowermost crypts that I've ever had occasion to see."  

Remus related what he and Dumbledore had witnessed and had only a few clarifications to answer from Harry and, more often, Snape.  

All in all, it wasn't that great of a surprise by this point and after hearing everything, Snape said, "Very well then.  I have things to attend to."  With one last rake of his eyes across the room, he turned towards the door.

"Oh, Professor," Harry said just before Snape could leave.  Snape paused in mid step and pivoted, making his robes flounce out about him.  His only answer was an arched eyebrow.  

"I have one more question for you," Harry said, making Snape sigh heavily to convey how very hard-done-by he believed he was for enduring Harry's questions.  "When Voldemort--sorry," Harry apologized automatically when Snape winced and gripped the doorframe upon hearing the name. "When he suffers his fits and, at the same time has gotten visions from me, do you know what he thinks causes this all to happen?"  

Snape worked his mouth around before answering: "I have been kept extraordinarily busy trying to work on draughts to strengthen the Dark Lord and to help prevent these attacks since summer.  As you can now perhaps understand, he continues to seek his most powerful servants so assiduously from their secret incarceration so that they may aid in lending him strength.  I would be shocked if the Dark Lord did not also have several other plans to fortify his health and strength.  

"However, I did recently overhear this past week that the Dark Lord tried, more than once, to send you images through your mind connection.  I believe, and you may confirm, that he failed?"  

Harry nodded.  "Yeah, I haven't...a few pains one night, but nothing--no images or visions."

Snape nodded curtly.  "Mm, yes, I think he's now assuming that the visions he sees from you are due to his own weakened state during the attacks.  His belief is likely that the attacks cause his Occlumency shields to fail, thus enabling a vision of sorts from you."

"So, he does not suspect I'm the one _causing_ the attacks?" Harry clarified.  _Nor would he understand then that what he sees in those visions is linked to what causes the attacks..._

Snape's face was an unfathomable mask at this.  "No, I do not believe so."  

Harry nodded and Snape swept out silently, leaving only the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth.  

Remus just shook his head.  That had been the only halfway civil conversation of any merit that he had ever witnessed between a Potter and a Snape.  _Ever_.  

~

~

The next day, the Daily Prophet had a large headline declaring, MINISTER FOUND DEAD IN BOTCHED GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN.  A large picture of the white Gringotts bank building was below the headline and showed two Aurors in gold robes levitating a body draped with a white sheet.  

Harry, Remus, Tonks, and Hermione all had to fight each other to read the paper first.  "It's my paper!" Remus said as he held up it up above Tonks' outstretched hand.  

"_Accio Prophet_!" Hermione called at once, whisking the paper away from Remus and shrugging as she said, "You keep Tonks occupied and we'll read it over."

"Hold that still!" Harry said as he bent over and strained his neck to read the paper clutched in Hermione's hand.  

"Damn it!" Remus cursed.  "You two!  Bring it over to the table.  We'll put a Binns Charm on it."

"Binns Charm?" Harry and Tonks both asked wryly.  Hermione, Harry could easily see, was at once running though each and every charm she had ever read about and wasn't recognizing any Binns Charm.

Remus took advantage of her distraction and snatched the paper from her hands as he muttered, "Er, well, I'm sure that's not the proper name but we found the spell while we were in school and since it just reads off text in a monotone, we dubbed it the Binns Charm."  

"Oh, honestly!" Hermione exclaimed as Harry snorted.  "_I'll_ read it then!"  She sat at the table in the drawing room and held out her hand expectantly towards Remus who gave in and just handed her the paper.  With Harry, Tonks, and Remus all reading over her shoulder, Hermione read the main article out loud. 

_After an emergency summons to the Wizengamot, Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Albus Dumbledore announced Minister Cornelius Oswald Fudge was found deceased late last night while officials from Gringotts Wizarding Bank in Diagon Alley were investigating a break-in.  The break-in targeted what officials will only identify as a high-security vault with the most advanced Goblin-wrought security features available.  Investigations into this break-in revealed that it occurred between early Saturday morning and early Sunday morning and, according to both Ministry and Gringotts officials, the main suspect at this time in the break-in is Fudge himself.  _

_Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement for the past 14 years, has been named the interim Minister for Magic at this time by the Wizengamot.  In her press release this morning, she stated, 'The Ministry shall conduct investigations into the death of Former Minister Fudge and release all findings to an independent Wizengamot council for consideration.  At this time, the Ministry has no comment on the events of this weekend.'_  

_A Goblin official also expressed that they intended to work in concert with the Ministry's investigators and stated, 'We have no comment on the likelihood that the former Minister was a bumbling fool who died due in large part to his own stupidity.  That kind of conjecture will not further our investigations no matter how much evidence there is to support it at this time.  We resolve to remain impartial as we bring evidence to prove he was indeed the culprit.'_

"Oh!" Hermione gasped.  "Honestly!  _That's_ impartial?   Might be _true_...but, humph!"  Hermione read on then through several other related articles, stopping occasionally to allow interjections from the others and more than a few from herself.  

There was a five-page spread by none other than Rita Skeeter in which she outlined an elaborate theory in which she actually managed to incorporate quite a bit of truth.  She speculated that Fudge had been in the pocket of Lucius Malfoy long before Malfoy's incarceration and, with replacement Finance Authority Officer Edward Planesse conducting his current investigations, Fudge found himself in a rather hot cauldron.  Skeeter postulated that Fudge tried to break into the Malfoy vault, suspected to be one likely under high-security, with the motive of clearing away any evidence incriminating himself and to also nick enough gold to replenish Ministry coffers.  Skeeter even managed to tie in Fudge's past efforts to gain entry to this vault, among others, by pushing his amendment to the Gringotts Charter.  She compiled an elaborate list of close associates of Fudge whom she speculated might have been aiding him in his cover up and called upon the investigating Wizengamot committee to crack down on Ministry corruption.  

"Almost makes you wonder," Hermione had said mostly to herself.  But Harry knew what she meant.  It was awfully uncanny how much Skeeter had right and both Harry and Hermione knew she had the means to get otherwise secret information.  

There was a two-page spread that Hermione studied religiously for the next several days in coordination with several other texts she pulled from the library; all centering on the processes by which past Ministers for Magic had been named.  

It all served to be extremely frustrating to Hermione because, apparently, the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot could think up and implement any process that he or she dreamt up.  It didn't bother Harry very much though, as that meant Dumbledore was the one running the show.  

This all also meant that Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen around Headquarters for the remaining week and a half of winter break.  

During that time, Harry spent a great many hours of often frustrating and sometimes painful Metamorphamagus training with Tonks.  Every spare hour when she was not working, she was constantly trying to get Harry to practice changing the color of his hair, lengthening or shortening his hair, growing his fingernails, and--her favorite--trying to get Harry to grow a beard.  

"Are you a man or not!?" she'd shout at him when he failed to grow even a whisker on his chin.

Harry found it difficult to concentrate and to effect transfiguration of himself from his normal everyday self but was having great success when it came to reversing self-transfiguration spells.  Hexes designed to do such things as turn his hair orange, make his nose grow six inches or grow a beard down to his knees (Tonks' favorite hex at the moment) were quickly countered by Harry without any use of a spell or wand.  After Tonks would hit Harry with the Bearding Hex, it only took him about five seconds to shrink the beard back up and away completely.  

Hermione read along with him in the assigned reading McGonagall had given him and called this Revertive Transfiguration.  She was also determined to help Harry learn as much as he could about this skill before they headed back to school.  She would often practice the human transfiguration spells that they would soon be studying next term on Harry and watch him use his Metamorphamagus skills to counter the spells.  

She was entirely supportive of this new skill that Harry had and she didn't.  Harry was honestly a bit surprised to not hear her complain once that she couldn't do what he could.  Although, he _did_ see her scrunching her face up a few times in front of mirrors that would then comment, "Are you all right dear?  You look a bit constipated."  

Despite being hounded by every spare minute that Hermione and Tonks had, Harry still managed an awful lot of free time to himself.  Moody, of course, would occasionally pop in and was giving Harry a crash course on an Auror's Stealth and Tracking training.  But a large majority of time, Harry spent writing pages and pages in his journal as he tried to reach for some brilliant insight that would tie all his lingering questions together with a one neat and all-encompassing answer.  

He searched through books in the library for some inspiration as to how Dementors might be destroyed for good.  He didn't find much but he did deduce that since each Dementor had been created when a witch or wizard had been kissed by another Dementor, Dementors were most likely to have been created--either on accident or on purpose--by wizardkind.  _Why_ anyone would try to create a Dementor was beyond him, though.  

Harry had yet to come up with what he would use for his constant projection to tie together his Occlumency shield and his burgeoning Legilimency skills.  He spent more than a few hours in front of his wardrobe mirror trying to affect something that might work.  Unfortunately, it was incredibly difficult to look into a mirror and see your own projection reflected back.  He'd had planned to experiment with various ideas while conversing with other people but quickly had to give that up after Tonks insisted that Harry was making eyes at her over the dinner table one night.  

About a week after Fudge had been found dead, Dumbledore had called on the Floo and spoken with Harry for the first time since the night he'd left to meet with the Goblins.  

"How are you and everyone else fairing, Harry?" he asked merrily as his head bobbed in the green flames.  

"Good, sir.  How are you?  Do we have a new official Minister yet?  You're driving Hermione batty by not having anything at all in the news about it."

Dumbledore just smiled at this.  "Yes, well, I've been operating under the assumption that if no one knows what the exact process is, then no one can plot to try to influence it unduly."  This was just as Remus had guessed and had tried to tell Hermione more than a dozen times.  "Once the new Minister is empowered, we can then allow the Ministry to more thoroughly carry out their investigations and, I daresay, many things will be running more smoothly."  

The latest thing that Hermione had been wondering out loud about was how much Percy knew of Fudge's plans to break into Gringotts.   Percy, still in possession of whatever all-important sounding title he held, had been quoted in the Prophet more than once as saying that Minister Fudge had performed admirably under great stress and through difficult times.  Percy had also expressed his shock at the accusations put forth by Rita Skeeter that suggested Fudge had been trying to cover his own trail ever since Lucius Malfoy left the Ministry.  Percy was quoted as stating several times, each time word for word the same as the last, that Finance Authority Official Edward Planesse was working tirelessly to finalize his report and would clear up the slander surrounding Minister Fudge.  

The only problem with this however, came when, minutes after Percy had reiterated this yet again to a reporter in the Ministry's Atrium, a Magical Law Enforcement Patroller rushed in and exclaimed that Edward Planesse's body had been found dead and decomposing in a bog near Exmoor.  

"What?!" Percy was later quoted as exclaiming.  "That's _preposterous_!  Authority Officer Planesse has been working tirelessly to--"

"He's dead, I tell you!  _Dead_!  Has been for months, he says!" The Patroller was reported as countering.

"_Who_ says?" Percy then asked wildly.  

"Planesse!  I was responding to a call about a haunting and it was _his_ ghost haunting the bog!  He led me to the body and everything!  I brought him along, you want to speak with 'im?"

~

********

* * *

I will remind you that there is a Yahoo group for this fic. The group name is HP_AoF and a link to the site can be found on my bio page. ~~~Cheers~~~

* * *


	46. Chapter 49 Testimony of the Dead

* * *

**Chapter 49.  Testimony of the Dead**

_"I was kept locked up in some pitch black, freezing dungeon for months," claimed the skeletal ghost of Edward L. Planesse before a gathering of Ministry officials and reporters in the Ministry's Atrium yesterday afternoon.   "When I knew I was going to be killed, I was so terrified no one would ever know what happened; so I stayed behind myself.  I couldn't stand the thought of no one ever knowing the truth."_

_This reporter, Rita Skeeter, was present when the ghostly form of Planesse was led forth, as Magical Law Enforcement Patrollers brought in his recovered body, to tell a tale of premeditated abduction, persistent impersonation, certain deceit and undeniable murder.  _

_Planesse explains how it began: "It all started after I'd come home the day I was named Lucius Malfoy's replacement; that was such a tremendous break for my career.  I was about to settle in for a drink when something hit me—_wham!_—on the back of the head.  The next thing I know I'm waking up freezing, my head's shaved and I'm starving with pounding headache.  The whole time I was there I was fed barely enough to remain alive."_

_The ghost continued to give the details of his imprisonment by an unidentified captor and further explained how he was forced to repeatedly provide knowledge for his impersonator to be successful.  _

_"The only face I ever saw was my own," Planesse's ghost says.  "Whoever it was had stolen my life, my freedom, my identity _and_ my job.  No one would ever know I was gone.  I was forced to answer questions to help him better impersonate me.  He even brought home paperwork and forced me to complete it!  _

_"I was interrogated about my personal life and habits after being dosed with Veritaserum. He told me that's what it was.  He asked me everything I knew about other Ministry officials I 'd worked with.  Especially about Fudge and his closest associates."_

_All testimony points towards the likelihood that someone, other than Edward Planesse, had been running the Finance Authority Office's investigation all these past several months.  The same investigation that was meant to uncover the extent of former Finance Authority Official and now convicted Death Eater Lucius Malfoy's corruption and misappropriation of Ministry holdings.  _

_This reporter has been questioning the Ministry's dedication to this investigation since it was announced back in July; coincidently, the same time the real Edward Planesse was swapped out for an impostor.  This is the government that is supposed to protect its people from the ever-growing threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?  This is the authority to which we, the people, are meant to turn to in this time of dark deeds and uncertainty?  _

_Over the past two weeks alone, there've been over three dozen reported sightings of the Dark Mark, more than double that the number of murders and linked disappearances, the Minister of Magic himself was found dead after attempting theft of a high security Gringotts vault and now, a Ministry official who the country had been hoping to turn to for some answers, turns up dead with his ghost testifying that whoever was parading around the past six months as him, most certainly was not.  To where do we turn now?  Do we even have a Minister who is willing to step up?  _

_Albus Dumbledore, who is as forthcoming as he is young, has kept the Wizengamot and Interim-Appointed Minister, Amelia S. Bones shrouded in secrecy the past week, since the death of former Minister Fudge.  Does the crafty and slick Dumbledore have yet another trick up his sleeve?  Will he finally step forward in the country's time of need to boldly stand against You-Know-Who?  _

_Doris Crockford, a witch hailing from Dorset, says, "I sure hope Dumbledore finally takes the job.  He's the only one who You-Know-Who fears and we already know You-Know-Who wants to take over the Ministry."_

_Crockford is certainly referring to the June incident where Dumbledore duelled the infamous, self-proclaimed Dark Lord, You-Know-Who to the point where You-Know-Who fled the Ministry, leaving eleven of his followers behind, captured.   _

_A final Ministry investigative report on this incident was also expected to be out this past week, after execution of an investigation by Junior Undersecretary to the former minister, Percy Weasley.  Weasley, who coincidentally was repeatedly quoted vouching the reliability of the impostor Planesse, was unavailable for comment at this gathering due to his having passed out cold shortly after the ghost of Planesse wafted through the doors.  Weasley was later seen being levitated out of the Atrium by two unidentified Aurors.  This reporter would be shocked if the young upstart, who also served as Barty Crouch's personal assistant during the time when _he_ went missing never to be heard from again, was not interrogated and found to be serving interests other than the public's.  _

"Well," Hermione said, opening the morning edition of the Daily Prophet and leaning back in her chair.  "That's all certainly more food for thought."  She spread the open paper now upon the worn wooden table in the kitchen and looked over to see Harry cradling his head in his hands and rubbing at his forehead.  "Harry?"  

Harry looked up.  "Huh?"  He'd only been half-listening to Hermione read the newspaper; they'd already heard much of the same news the evening before when Tonks came home from work.  He hadn't told Hermione yet because he wasn't quite sure he wanted to hear her worry, but his scar has started throbbing a bit the night before.  Before he went to sleep, he'd managed to block out the annoying prickle and even clear his mind sufficiently from wondering what was causing it to feel anything at all now.   

"It is your scar?" Hermione asked astutely, watching Harry with wide eyes and a concerned expression.  

Harry abruptly dropped his hands to the table from where they'd been absently rubbing at the dull ache that persisted in his scar.  "A little.  Nothing much.  Nothing to worry about," he hurried to assure her.  

Hermione didn't look so sure.  

"_Really_," he said looking at her imploringly.   "I imagine Voldemort's just a bit brassed off that someone decided to defy him and not die properly."  

It was already a foregone conclusion among Harry, Hermione and nearly everyone Tonks had spoken to at the Ministry that whoever had been impersonating Planesse and later killed him was almost surely a Death Eater.  Who else would be so motivated to speedily occupy the position formerly held by Malfoy before his incarceration (or transfiguration, as it may be)?   The spectre of the murdered Planesse had been ushered out of the Atrium by investigators from the Ministry who tried to assure everyone that further information would be forthcoming.  

"Hmm," Hermione said, still not totally sounding convinced of the unimportance of Harry's scar acting up.  "Well, I wonder why you never see more ghosts linger to point out how they died?  You'd think it would happen more often, wouldn't you?" she asked now looking contemplative as she cocked her head to the side.  "Why _not_ hang around and make sure whoever did you in gets their due?"

"I dunno," Harry said remembering how mournful Nearly Headless Nick had sounded when he spoke of his being a ghost.  "It's not _that_ common, is it?  Maybe it's difficult."  

Hermione frowned; she had no immediate answer so it was likely true she'd never read a book on it.  Harry thought it sounded like becoming a ghost was a rather permanent thing and, while some people might not look forward to going on to death, he, Harry could see very well that most people would wish to go on to wherever it was everyone went when they died.  

Harry picked at the remains of his cereal and, as his scar continued to prickle with pain, picked up his mug of tea and downed the last of it.  

"Do you have any homework left to finish before we head back?" he asked, wiping his chin with the cuff of his sweatshirt.  

Hermione looked back up from where she was still perusing the newspaper and said, "Oh, well, I never did get a chance to spend any time working on my warding project for Snape.  I want to at least go through the library here and see if I can find anything."  She paused, watching Fang stretch out lazily across the hearthstone. "I also need to finish the last bit on the potion for the mirror.  It should be done Saturday morning and then I can enchant the mirrors and make sure they work before we have to leave."

Harry nodded.  They were heading back to Hogwarts a day before all the other students who'd gone home for the holiday would return.  Friday afternoon they'd be Apparating back to Hogsmeade and then making the trek to the castle.  Remus had said he wanted to go with them but, as the full moon was that very evening, neither Harry nor Hermione believed Remus would be recovered enough in two days to make the trip by Apparition.

In fact, they weren't even sure Remus would be back from wherever it was he had left for the previous day.  He'd left before Tonks came skipping home with the news of Planesse (and Percy's embarrassment) and told them in no uncertain terms that he would be spending the next three nights in a safe place.  He claimed that with so many people staying at the house, it was much easier for him to go somewhere else.  

Hermione had made a comment about him being harmless with the Wolfsbane but Remus, uncharacteristically, had just scowled at this and mumbled something incoherent.  Harry was a bit concerned at this but Hermione assured him it was normal for a werewolf to get tetchy around that time of the month.  

Getting up and walking over to her simmering cauldron, Hermione asked, "Do you think Andy would be any help to me on that warding paper?  She is a pureblood and might know something."

The door swung open then and Mr. and Mrs. Granger, each yawning good morning in turns, entered the kitchen as Winky _cracked_ into view and set to bustling about in the pantry.

"Good morning, Sweetheart," Hermione's father said to her as he ambled over to peer over her shoulder at her cauldron.  He wrinkled his nose at the smell and said, "I'm just glad you're not cooking."

Mrs. Granger smiled at Harry as Winky now appeared with two more serving sets and a fresh pot of tea.  

"Thanks, Winky," Harry said as she nodded shyly and then bustled quickly out of the way.  She never did take to conversation like Dobby.  

"So," Mr. Granger said, settling down beside his wife and smiling at her as he held out a mug for tea.  "Two more days before it's back to work for the both of you, eh?"  

Harry nodded, absently rubbing at his forehead again and said, "Yeah.  You'll both be staying here?  You'll be fine, right?"

Mr. Granger frowned in spite of himself and Mrs. Granger was the one who answered, "I think we'll manage to amuse ourselves.  I'm rather looking forward to it, really.  I'm taking it as an opportunity to live a life of leisure and do something I've always wanted to do."

"What's that—sit around and do nothing?" her husband teased.

She swatted him once on the arm before answering, "No, you.  I...well I always wanted to write a book.  You know, the great epic novel and all that.  Although I doubt it'll be an epic and I'm sure it won't be all that great."

"Oh, Mum, that'll be wonderful for you," Hermione said as she wiped her hands on her jeans and strode back over to the table to join them.  "Maybe I can help you this summer with editing or proofreading or such.  Dad," she said turning to her father who was tucking into a plateful of sausages with gusto, "how will you keep busy?   Didn't I hear you talking to Remus about helping him to restore some of those antiques from the attic?"

Philip Granger nodded with his mouth full, chewed hastily as he tilted his head from side to side and then finally swallowed.  "Yes, that's right.  I looked at some of the pieces he's got and," he shook his head with appreciation, "they _are_ beauties; eighteenth and nineteenth century real deals and all need quite a bit of work.  Remus said he learned to do restoration and woodworking from his father and without magic.  Says it's a hobby for relaxation.  I told him I'd lay out for some other investment pieces—his choice—and then we can both work on them and see if we can reap a profit."

"How much?" his wife asked with eyes narrowed over her cup of tea.  

"Oh not much," Mr. Granger said waving his hand at her.  "Not anything to concern anyone."  She gave him the same look Hermione often gave Harry when she suspected he wasn't being entirely forthcoming.  "A few quid."  The look persisted.  "Maybe a bit more.  Oh, what's the difference?  We've got all the payout from the insurance on the house and with us not buying a new one right now, why not do a little investing?"  

"I see," Mrs. Granger said slowly.  "And how much investing do you plan to do?" she asked softly.

Harry felt a tug at his sleeve and found Hermione jerking her head towards the door as she rolled her eyes in the direction of her parents.  He smiled and gave a quick look aback the Grangers; they weren't about to miss him if he left.  He muttered, "See you later," and hurried out the door after Hermione.  

It was common for Hermione's parents to descend into 'discussions' of sorts where Mrs. Granger always seemed to poke and prod with questions until she uncovered all the facts and motives of her husband in nearly any decision he tried to make.  It was a bit unnerving to Harry at times as she often tended to remind him of Hermione at her worst.  

~

Harry and Hermione worked the rest of the morning away with Hermione searching through the library and Harry desperately trying to change the color of his hair from its normal jet black to anything else.   He'd only recently realized that being able to change how he looked might just possibly mean he could wander about in public without any fear of being recognized.  It was something he'd only realized after Moody pointed it out as he administered a crash course in basic stealth manoeuvres for Aurors one afternoon.  

Harry's successes thus far, despite this newfound motivation, were negligible.  Of course that could be due in large part to him spending two whole days focusing on nothing but trying to get rid of his scar—something with which he'd had absolutely zero success.  Harry had managed to cause a few other scars to fade noticeably—such as the one on his knee from where the Acromantula had got him, the one in his shoulder from the Basilisk fang and the one in the crook of his arm where Wormtail had taken his blood.   But the lightning bolt upon his forehead had never once faded even the teeny tiniest bit.  

"Does this look brown to you?" he asked Hermione as he peered into a handheld mirror that he held propped up on his chest as he slouched in an armchair in the library.  

"Is it supposed to be brown?" she asked as she continued to pull out one book, flip through a few pages, put it back and then pull out another.

"Something.  I'm trying to just lighten my hair.  I think it's darkish brown now."

Hermione paused and looked over at Harry.  "No, it still looks black to me," she said making him sigh in frustration. 

He flicked his wrist, pointed his wand at his head of hair and said, "_Capillus mutato blond_."  His jet-black hair turned instantly to pure blond.  

"Ugh, you look like a Malfoy," Hermione said as she looked over her shoulder at him and shuddered before turning back to the shelves and shelves of books.  

Harry grinned and went back to his mirror; focusing on slowly changing his hair from bright blond, to darker blond, to light golden brown, to dark brown and then finally back to his normal black.  He could feel the magic about him working to effect the change as he did it but just couldn't quite catch it and command it yet to work in the other directions.  He knew the key to his mastering this was there somewhere in what he was feeling.  He felt like he was so close to picking it out but it still escaped him; like water seeping through his cupped hands.  

A knock at the door made Harry and Hermione each look up.  

"Hello," Andy Tonks said serenely with a nod as she entered the library, proffering out a rolled up newspaper towards Hermione.  "Delivery for you.  Seems like a special edition," she said as Hermione pushed back a strand of hair from her face and reached for the paper.  

Harry noted that Andy leaned back then against the large desk and clasped her hands across her stomach.  It was an odd sort of pose that he'd seen her do more than once.  He turned his attention back to Hermione as she unrolled the familiar looking Daily Prophet and read from the top.  "Amelia Bones New Minister for Magic!"  Hermione looked excitedly at Harry before she returned to the paper to read more.  "Wizengamot adjourns after swearing in new minister, hearing testimony from—"  _Crack!_

Tonks, breathless and dressed in her full Auror gold, was panting as she Apparated into the room and made Hermione nearly drop the paper in surprise.  "Did you—" she wheezed,"—hear—" pant, "—the news?"  

Hermione slid her eyes from the dishevelled Tonks back to the newspaper.  "—hearing testimony from the ghost of the recently murdered Edward Planesse, and conducting the formal inquiry and trial of Percy Ignatius Weasley for _conspiracy to commit fraud and abet murder_!"  Hermione read the last few words slowly and stopped with her mouth hanging open.  "Oh...my..."

Tonks was nodding vigorously now and spoke rapidly as she said, "Yeah, yeah.  I was there.  Well, not in the courtroom, but outside of it and I heard everyone talk when they came out before the press release went out.  Percy is claiming the Imperius.  I guess Dumbledore did the counter curse to it or such.  Percy snapped awake then and started blubbing his eyes out saying he couldn't help it."

"_What_?" Harry said with mingled disgust, disbelief and spite.  The last thing Harry wanted was for Percy to suddenly become some poor, pitiful sod that was taken unwittingly and now bore no responsibility for his actions.    Harry felt quite certain Percy was guilty of _something_.   

Tonks nodded again.  "Yeah, but it's still not adding up.  He's being held for now.  Undergoing—" she paused here and looked like she wanted to both giggle and shudder, "—a full body search—_unngh_!"  She made a retching sound to show what she thought of that task and went on: "They're looking for the Dark Mark on him."

Hermione, still holding the paper up and scanning over it, read, "Auror, Noble Rank, Kingsley F. Shacklebolt was named the new department head for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in Minister Bones' first act as official minister."  

Tonks squealed.  "You should have seen it—Kingsley looked so..." she shook herself.  "Well, you should have seen it.  Oh!  And there're a whole _slew_ of Fudge's old cronies that everyone's suspected for some time as being...well, shifty—they're all going to be investigated.  Well, not _just_ them—anyone who worked closely with Fudge, Planesse, Percy—you name it; they're all being called forth to give testimony starting tonight."  Tonks nodded again for emphasis and beamed at her mother then.

"Kingsley called together a group of Aurors—_including _your most favorite daughter—and we're putting together a task force to flush out any plants with, er, _questionable loyalties_ in the Auror units."  Tonks made a face and then sing-songed, "Dawlish is already gone and undergoing inquiry."  She checked her wristwatch then.  "I need to be back at five for my shift on the force.   With any luck I'll get to interrogate that little pillock myself.  I never have liked him ever since he called me a klutz."

Harry had to laugh.  "But you are a klutz," he said with a bemused smile.  

Tonks shrugged.  "Yeah, but you say it and it's endearing.  He said it like it was a _bad_ thing."  

Hermione walked with the paper over to the small round table and sat down without ever looking up from the paper. 

Andy put her arm around her daughter and Tonks leaned back into her, smiling as she dropped a kiss onto her mother's cheek.  It was a candid moment between them and the very fact that is was such a truthful and private little moment was why Harry was compelled to stare.  If he were forced to admit it, he'd have to say he always felt himself drawn to watch whenever Tonks and Andy interacted quietly.  Just like Harry was drawn to watch Mr. and Mrs. Granger; with them, Harry was always fascinated to see little mannerisms he'd always only associated with Hermione being displayed by her parents.  It often made him wonder if he possessed any mannerisms that were once characteristic of his parents.  

"Mum," Tonks said in a bewildered voice, "why are you always clutching your belly like that?  Did you try to eat curry again?"

Andy just smiled indulgently.  "Oh you'll soon see, my girl.  Perhaps a new brother or sister can explain it to you."

Tonks sighed deeply and looked at her mother pityingly as she bit down on her lower lip.  "Mum," Tonks started tiredly.  "You're not still on about _that_, are you?" Tonks quickly gave Harry a commiserating look.  "Mum, you've been to see Healer Evermoor twice in the past two months—don't you think she'd have noticed if you were pregnant?  And I hardly think you've been doing anything since...well...maybe you should lie down.  Do you want some tea?  Perhaps some nice camomile with honey and a kip will have you feeling more yourself."

Tonks threw an apologizing look over her shoulder as she ushered her mother out of the room.  Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it but, then again, Andy Tonks was a paragon of irrationality and unfounded logic from his experience.  

"Listen to this, Harry," Hermione said as she folded back a page of the special edition Daily Prophet.  "The ghost gave lurid details about how his captor, who'd only ever appeared to him as himself, performed the murder."  She paused and looked up at Harry.  "They obviously used Polyjuice to impersonate him and to make sure he never saw their true identity."  She went back to reading.  "Planesse tells how his would-be murderer used an unnamed curse that effectively strangled him to death.  Trauma marks were then identified as present on the neck and windpipe of the ghost.  He says, 'It was slow enough so it gave me time to think.  But I knew I was going to die.  He had all the time in the world to off me.  I just wanted to make him pay.' Later Planesse tells of the moment his murderer was faced with the ghost.  'He'd just dumped my body in the bog and I wasn't sure if I was dead or alive.  But I felt myself wafting up from the muck and met him eye to eye.  He fled—terrified!'  Planesse recalls triumphantly.  'I'd have haunted him all across the isle and back if he hadn't have Disapparated.  I then tried to lead anyone I could find back to the bog to find my body.'  The ghost could not, unfortunately, give any helpful details as to who his captor or captors were or who his impersonator was.  For that mystery, investigators are hoping to turn to those known to have worked closely with the man who appeared to be Edward Planesse for the past six months."  

Harry sat as Hermione finished reading.    "Wasn't this guy mates with Fudge?" he asked.  "Didn't Bill say he saw Fudge and this guy Planesse meeting with the Goblins a few times when they were trying to get into the Malfoy vault?"

Hermione dropped the paper and looked thoughtfully at Harry.  "I do recall that, yes.  Which only goes to prove, yet more, that it's how we've been saying all along.  Whoever it was, was Voldemort's plant in the Ministry.  He must have been the one who pressured Fudge into trying to get at the vault.  Assume it was Karkaroff himself—he abducts this poor man, impersonates him, gets to go through and clear away any unfinished business of Malfoy's while whispering in Fudge's ear.  He could have even had the Minister under Imperius for all we know!"

"Fudge is pretty...predictable," Harry said.  "He could have just been whispering in his ear all sorts of things to get Fudge paranoid.  He probably didn't even have to curse him."

"And if all Voldemort wanted was some book that Lucius Malfoy had tucked away somewhere, how better to search for it than to use the guy who's supposed to be investigating Malfoy!" Hermione said.  "He must have had access to all his files and stuff at the Ministry."

"Yes," Harry said nodding.  "He checks Malfoy's work and can't find it.  He tries to get into the vault—Snape said he heard Karkaroff say they didn't find the book—do you think that means they _did_ get the vault open enough to look?" 

"How?" Hermione asked, bewildered.

Harry shrugged.  "Dunno but Voldemort managed to help Quirrell break into the vault that had the Philosopher's Stone, didn't he?  He must know of _some_ ways.  Maybe they cast Imperius on a Goblin?  Maybe they bribed him?"

"If anyone managed to get into the vault, I think they _must_ have had a Goblin working with him.  Goblin magic is notoriously resistant to wizards' magic."

Harry protested, "But if anyone could, it'd be Voldemort—"

"But Voldemort wasn't the one who went through the vault and didn't find the book," Hermione interjected.  "Voldemort was back at wherever he hangs out.  Snape was there too.  Whoever went through—whether it was Karkaroff or someone he sent, they were _not_ Voldemort.  I say they had a Goblin helping them."

Harry rested his chin on his hands now.  "So how did Fudge end up in the vault then?  And who killed the Goblin?"

Hermione bit her lower lip and paused before saying, "Say whoever was acting all this time as Planesse has been filling Fudge full of all sorts of reasons Fudge would like to get into the Malfoy vault.  Maybe he convinced him he deserved a chunk of the money that was in there.  Maybe he convinced Fudge that Malfoy had something that could incriminate Fudge.  Who knows—either way, Planesse has Fudge believing he wants to get into the vault and, specifically, get to a certain book it seems.   Asking the Goblins straight out doesn't work, trying to amend the charter to get into the vault doesn't work, and so what's left but to go for it themselves by breaking in?  Planesse goes in with Fudge—Voldemort possibly told his servant, the one impersonating Planesse, how to get in.  I still bet he had to use a Goblin—they _had_ to have help from the inside.  Say they pay one off—Snape even said how it was possible for a Goblin to decide to sell out for the right price.  So they get a Goblin to help them, lead them to the right vault and open it.  Planesse goes in, looks for the book he needs.  Fudge goes in, looking like a kid in a sweetshop, I bet.  Planesse can't find it.  His job impersonating Planesse must be done.  He's searched every last place he had to look for Malfoy's book.  He walks out of the vault and decides he's done his job there.  There's no reason to keep Fudge around and so he slams the vault door shut on Fudge and orders the Goblin to reseal the vault—or maybe the vault reseals itself.  Either way, he probably offs the Goblin then right there, too.  Can't have a witness left, can you?"

Harry found himself nodding along but then stopped and asked, "Ok, I can see all that.  But what I want to know about now is this book.  What is it?  _Where_ is it?  If it's not in Malfoy's last place of work and it's not in his Gringotts vault, then where is it?"

Hermione seemed to be following Harry's thinking now.  "It can't just be at their home," she said slowly.

Harry finished her thought, "Because then either Draco or his mother or Bellatrix who probably hangs out there could just get it."

Neither could work out any more on where this elusive book might be and Harry began to get more and more curious as to _what_ this book might be.  Tonks was good for little other than relaying the gossip from the Ministry and offered none of the details that might help makes things more clear.  Hermione was loath to have to wait until they returned to Hogwarts in two days until they might hope to hear more from Dumbledore but Harry saw little alternative.  

That night, as they lay in bed curled around each other, Hermione kept postulating every possible explanation she could dream up.  Harry had half a mind to ask her to stop as it was only filling his head with more and more stuff to think about, but as he noted his scar was no longer prickling, he began to drift off to the sound of Hermione's voice mingled with an echoing host of ever-present voices.  

~

~

"Remus, you look—no offence now—but you look like shite," Tonks said bluntly.  "It's Saturday and I've the time to go with Harry and Hermione.  You just...rest.  Merlin, you look like you need it.  Did _I_ even look this bad when I had two sacks of boneless skin hanging from my knees?  Keep Mumsy company.  She's knitting baby booties now, the twit."  

"She still thinks she's pregnant?" Remus asked.  Remus looked worse for wear than Harry had ever seen him after a full moon.  He'd come home that morning through the front door and looking like he'd been wrestling a Blast Ended Skrewt.

"Yeah, she's still on about that," Tonks said with both embarrassment and exasperation.  "I don't see _how_ she thinks it's possible.  If it was...you know, Dad's, then I think the Healers would have noticed when she's seen them before.  She's stuck in the mud though on this."

Hermione exchanged a look with Harry who was trying not to stare at the angry red wounds on the back of Remus' hand.  Consequently, Harry could barely bring himself to find his roast beef sandwich appetizing.  

"Maybe," Hermione said, "the Healers were only looking for _problems_ when they gave your mum a check-up, Tonks.   We learned in our Healing class that there're basic diagnostic charms they can use to check for anything that's wrong.  But if she was _pregnant_, then that's not necessarily a _problem_, is it?"

Miranda Granger, also seated at the drawing room table for Harry and Hermione's last lunch before they had to leave, said, "You know, I _knew_ I was pregnant with Hermione before I took any test.  I _just knew_.  I wouldn't discount her saying she believes she's pregnant until you have absolute proof she isn't."

"Well," Tonks said reaching to refill her pumpkin juice, "I told her I'd take her back to Healer Evermoor next week and get an answer once and for all.  I don't see how it could be true but I suspect it's just her way of trying to cope with...you know, with losing Dad."  Tonks made a quick movement to wipe at her eyes then and, with an elbow, knocked over her just refilled glass of juice.  "Oh, _hell_! I'm such a _such_ a dolt!"  

Mrs. Granger moved at once to stop the spreading juice with her serviette and Hermione waved her wand, muttering, "_Evanesco_," to clear away the spilled liquid.  

Remus, who'd gotten splashed with the spilt juice, pointed to his now wet jumper and asked, "Hermione?  A Drying Charm, if you would?"

Tonks laughed with a choked off sob and dropped her head into her hands.  "I always wanted a younger brother or sister.  Someone to tell what to do and drive nuts, you know?"

"Tonks," Remus said wryly as he patted the front of his jumper.  "I think we knew perfectly well."  

Tonks just grinned back at him.  "Yeah, I reckon I drive all of you nuts, eh?" She swiped again at her eyes with the back of a hand and laughed again as she said, "Look at me, blubbing away as bad as ickle Percy."

Harry shot Hermione a dark look.  They both were frustrated with the lack of news from the investigation into Percy.  Thus far, all that had been said was Percy was effusively apologetic and always seen entering and leaving the courtrooms with red-rimmed eyes and wads of tissues in his hands.  

Molly Weasley, sobbing more tears than it would take to fill up a giant's tankard, had been reported to now be sitting vigil outside the courtroom where Percy was being investigated during the day.  She'd worn out even the most desperate of reporters after merely a day and still would cling to anyone who passed near enough as she told them how her Percy was merely misguided, a good boy, confused by the Ministry's politics and not at all evil like any of those nasty Death Eaters.  

The final verdict on Percy was yet to pass and Harry was all too ready to throw a fit if Percy wasn't held responsible for _something_.  The memory of Percy acting so vindictively smug at Harry's disciplinary hearing a year and half ago and the memory of Percy so smugly victorious over watching Dumbledore be charged with a crime was all too fresh in his mind.  

After lunch, while fierce hugs between Hermione and her parents were exchanged, Remus and Harry exchanged a brief farewell.  Truth be told, Harry was very pleased Remus would not be left alone at Grimmauld Place the next term.  Both the Grangers were remaining there of course and so were Tonks and her mother.  It was an odd group at times, to say the least, but Harry was happy Remus had someone to keep him company, Tonks was happy someone was there to keep her mum company and Hermione was happy someone was there to keep her parents both safe and occupied.   

She'd enchanted the mirrors this morning and, to her great relief, they now worked for her mother and father.  Even now, as farewells were being exchanged, Mrs. Granger reached out to pull Harry into an embrace as she said, "We're very, very grateful to you, Harry.  For allowing us to remain here and for lending us the mirror, we are _ever_ so grateful.  I know it came from your godfather and you didn't have to give it up."  

"No, er, no problem, Mrs. Granger," Harry said as he awkwardly hugged her back.   "I hope you're both able to enjoy yourselves here." 

Hermione smile discreetly at Harry as she saw him being hugged by her mother.  Mr. Granger then proceeded to give Harry a firm handshake and said, "So, I _am_ glad I got to know you better, Harry; especially after we, er, got off to a rather shaky start."  

Harry nodded and felt distinctly uncomfortable.  They'd gone two and half weeks without Mister Granger bringing up his initial animosity towards Harry and Harry was much more comfortable with denial of the whole incident.  "Er, no problem," was all he said as he hoped Tonks would hurry up and get down here so the three of them could leave already.

As if that were not enough to make Harry turn red and feel awkward, Mister Granger then decided to lean in and say, "You _will_ behave now back at school, won't you?  I'm trusting you with my only daughter, young man."  He arched an eyebrow for effect.  

Harry swallowed thickly and nodded.  "Yes, sir."

~

~

A trio of blond-haired, blue-eyed, tanned people made the trek from Hogsmeade to the Hogwarts castle.  

"I feel like a Malfoy," Harry grumbled as he tried to pull the hood of his cloak tighter.  

"Nah," Tonks said as she skipped along beside them.  "You're far too well tanned.  Malfoys are pale and pasty."  

It was Tonks' last little training bit for Harry and part of their plan to ensure they attracted no trouble on the short walk after their arrival that Tonks adopted a new look for herself and then made Harry try to copy her.  He wasted no time in casting the spells with his wand upon himself, Hermione following suit, so that they all looked like some small family of Swedish purebloods.  Harry knew he was no good yet at using his Metamorphmagus skills to effect such changes and argued with Tonks when she pouted that he'd use his skills when he arrived at the castle to change back.

"So, has either of you spoken to Ron, yet?" Tonks inquired as they rounded a bend and followed the path beside the iced-over river that opened up to eventually be the lake at Hogwarts.  "You three all parted in rather a poor way from what I recall."

Harry and Hermione both sighed in unison, answering the question more or less.  "I've barely had time to even _think_ about Ron," Harry admitted, feeling a tad ashamed at the truth of it.  

Hermione hummed her agreement.  "I've thought about him, but, well, they've not been _good_ thoughts.  I suppose we'll need to prepare to see him tomorrow as well," she said with dread evident in her voice.  

Tonks grimaced at them in sympathy as they crunched along over the snow covered path and said, "I saw Bill a few times the past week and he said he'd asked Ron to stay with him and Fleur for a few days.  You know, to get out of the Burrow and hopefully stop his sulking.  Bill seems to be blaming himself that Fleur was the one who Ron overheard when he blew up."

"Well," said Harry with a hard edge to his voice, "hopefully he's ready to apologize.  I did more than my part to explain to him how I felt before he left after the Celebration."  

Tonks looked to Hermione like she expected Hermione to voice some words of wisdom to Harry here, perhaps convince him to be more understanding of Ron. But the only thing Tonks saw when she looked at Hermione was the same hard look.  _Perhaps it was just the blond hair and blue eyes,_ Tonks mused as she tried to recall ever having seen such a cold, indifferent look on both Harry and Hermione's faces.  

They crossed through the main gates of the castle to see a few tentacles of the giant squid playfully poking holes up through the ice.  

"Are you coming in, Tonks?" Harry asked as they were heading down the last stretch leading up to the castle steps.  

She nodded happily and said, "You betcha'.  McGonagall owled me a few days ago and asked for a summary of your progress with the metamorph stuff."  She shrugged guiltily, saying, "I'm rather lazy so I thought I'd just walk up with you and talk to her in person.  I've given you all the exercises and explanations, Harry.  It's really up to you to figure out how to use it now.  Hard to explain, really.  It all just came to me real easy."

In the castle, they were greeted almost immediately by Filch whose idea of greeting was a grunt and a beady, one-eyed stare.  

"Who're you?" he growled as Mrs. Norris leapt down from his arms and trotted over to sniff them each suspiciously.  

"Wotcher there, Filchy boy!" Tonks called out, not caring one whit about Filch or his stupid feline fur bag.  

Harry groaned audibly and nudged Hermione who was closest to him.  Now that Filch was here, the old grouch wasn't about to leave.  Harry also had the urge to not let Filch know that he and Hermione knew how to change their appearances.  

"What'd yeh call me, missy?" Filch said in a low growl as he eyed Tonks up and down.  Mrs. Norris quickly left them alone and went back to rubbing up against Filch's mouldy leg.  "What do you think, my sweet?  Trespassers?"

Tonks was undeterred in her cheerfulness.  "You want to fetch McGonagall for us, or are you going to make us tramp about through the halls to find her?" Tonks asked as she pointedly stomped her feet which left little melted puddles of snow on the Entrance Hall floor.  

Harry had to fight back a snicker before he heard the vaguest swish of a cloak behind him, followed by a glimpse of fluttering black robes that could only mean one person.  

"Problems, Argus?" Snape inquired slowly as he stalked around the blond trio.  "What have we here?" he murmured almost to himself as he surveyed them.

"Found 'em," Filch said with a snort.  "Trying to force their way in, they were.  I rounded 'em up for yeh, Professor."  Harry felt a tremendous amount of disdain for the old caretaker right about now.  

"You're full of shite, you know," Tonks said conversationally.  She turned then to Snape and grinned salaciously as she batted her eye, saying, "Severus, how simply _charming_ to see you again!  You _do_ remember me, don't you?"  

Harry had to fight back the gagging that threatened to make him retch.  

"Tonks!" Hermione said as she swatted their supposed _adult_ escort on the arm.  

Snape crossed him arms and now glared at them all with narrowed eyes.  "I see then.  Argus, do go tell the Deputy Headmistress her guests have arrived," he commanded without ever taking his eyes off of them.  "Well?" he said imperiously as Filch slunk off down a side corridor.  

Tonks screwed up her face and morphed back to the most normal of her normal selves as Hermione used her wand to counter the spells she'd used upon her hair, eyes and skin.  Harry, however, waited until Tonks turned to watch him expectantly before he closed his eyes and focused on drawing his surrounding magic in towards himself.  He felt a cool wash of air cross his face as the tan faded and saw the blue change to green as he closed his eyes.  His hair, he knew would be back to black without even a second thought.  When he opened his eyes, Tonks was beaming at him as usual and Snape was watching him with one eyebrow arched.  Harry entertained the notion that Snape was impressed.  

"Five and half years here and you've finally found a talent other than chasing about little balls on a quidditch pitch," Snape said derisively to Harry.  "I finally see why you're the hope of the Wizarding world.  Ah, such clarity now on the heels of blindness."  

As Snape sneered and stalked off across the Entrance Hall, Harry thought, _well, so much for being impressed.  Git._  

McGonagall met them as they were making their way up the staircase to the fourth floor.  

"Good afternoon," she greeted.  "Ah, Nymphadora—I do hope you've been working Mister Potter, here?"  

"Not as hard as Hermione here, but sure!" Tonks said unabashedly.  Hermione swatted her on the arm yet again as McGonagall's lips drew themselves into a thin line.  

"I see," she said in a disapproving tone that actually managed to make Tonks look ashamed.  "Well, Mister Potter, Miss Granger, why don't the two of you go settle in up at your dormitories.  I believe you're well aware that Professor Dumbledore has been absent from the school for the past two weeks.  I know Remus is recovering at this moment and I know Alastor has been extremely busy helping at the Ministry but I do think it would behove us to meet briefly this evening."  

"Yes, Professor," Harry said as Hermione nodded.  

McGonagall nodded.  "Very well.  After dinner then in my office.  The password for the portrait hole is _Glumbumble_."  

Harry and Hermione both waved to Tonks who looked like she almost wished she were still a student and could scamper off to the dormitories with them.  

"I'm dying to hear from Dumbledore," Hermione said as they continued their trek up three more flights of stairs.  "I wonder if Ginny might have some news on Percy when she gets here."

"Not sure," Harry said.  "But I _am_ sure that you and I have about three hours to burn before we have to be down for dinner."  He gave Hermione a pointed look as he said this and saw her have to fight to keep a straight face.  

"I take it you want to go to the library then and study?" she said innocently.

"Glumbumble!" Harry said with a grin as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung open for them.  "Only if one of your fantasies involves snogging in the Restricted Section."

~

~

It was very lucky for Harry and Hermione that Madame Pince did not spend her holidays at Hogwarts and had not a clue of the things that were done in the presence of all her precious and beloved books.  

Harry and Hermione found it very difficult to stop grinning throughout dinner and were very grateful that they were the only two people seated at the Gryffindor table.  There was a pair of both Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs present.  Professor Flitwick, who sat with his Ravenclaws, was the only other one present in the Great Hall for dinner.  

After eating, they made their way to McGonagall's office and, as soon as they neared the open door, Harry heard the unmistakable low baritone of Snape coming from her office.  

"I don't see why _I_ need be present.  I have more _pressing_ matters to attend to if I might," he said almost in a sulk as Harry and Hermione entered through the open door.

"Severus, stop being petulant.  We might as well all try to get on the same page as one another.  Come in, both of you," she said as she spied her students entering.  She gestured over to a small round table with four chairs.  "Let's be seated here and get on with this so Professor Snape can hurry and leave to attend his very_ pressing matters_."  She sniffed as if she thought his pressing matters consisted of haunting his own dungeon and practicing his sneering in a mirror.  

Their meeting consisted of Hermione going through a point by point summary of all they'd put together thus far in connection with Fudge's death, the elusive book of Lucius Malfoy's, the whole issue of Planesse and Voldemort's possible influences.  The main point of which was that _all_ these things seemed very much connected indeed.  

Snape seemed to fear the possibility that he'd appear interested in the discussions and Harry noticed that he continually kept his gaze trained upon a black quill that he repeatedly twirled in his right hand.  Despite Harry's firm belief that Snape was a greasy git, Harry still found himself wondering if said git agreed with any of Harry and Hermione's theories.  Harry realized he wasn't alone when McGonagall finally spoke up and asked, "Severus?  What do you make of all this?"

The quill finally paused in its twirling and Snape refocused his attention on McGonagall as if that in itself was a chore.  "You know quite well I feel this is pointless and a waste of time until the Headmaster returns and can flat out _tell_ us what has happened.  I've heard little else here besides unsubstantiated speculation that apparently _any_ idiot can piece together."  He sniffed and returned his attention to his quill.

McGonagall allowed a slight smirk to play upon her lips and said to Hermione, "I believe Professor Snape is trying to say he agrees with your assumptions thus far."  

Snape's mouth opened as if he planned to protest this absurd notion but then he clamped it shut again; his sharp beak of a nose rising loftily into the air.  "I said no such thing," he muttered darkly to no one in particular.

Finished with catching up, McGonagall thanked Snape effusively for his precious spare time and watched with a smirk as the git sneered and rose to leave.  

"Potter," she said then.  "We'll have to wait to firm up a training schedule for your work on self-transfiguration.  I'll see if I can find a way to work in specific assignments for you to do while the other students work on wand spells in class."  

Harry nodded and, turning to leave, saw that Snape had just said something that ended in him smirking knowingly at Hermione.   Harry walked closer then to them and heard Hermione's reply.

"Actually, it might not hurt you to know, Professor Snape, that I used it to enchant a pair of two-way mirrors," Hermione said archly.  "They're meant to allow me and my parents to keep in touch but as they _are_ residing at Headquarters, it might be well to keep in mind that I have a very secure means of communicating with the people there." 

Snape made no comment as Hermione turned to leave, catching Harry's hand on the way out as she left.  

*~*~*              ~          *          ~          *~*~*

* * *

 I will remind you that there is a Yahoo group for this fic. The group name is HP_AoF and a link to the site can be found on my bio page. ~~~Cheers~~~

* * *


	47. Chapter 50 Confrontations

* * *

**Chapter 50.  Confrontations**

It took a while for Hermione to coax him out of the cosy four-poster bed, but Harry finally relented to get out of bed when Hermione refused to waste more time that could be spent having the entire Hogwarts library all to herself.   

"I'm taking a shower and plan to have my way with the Ancient Scrolls Section while Madame Pince might finally relent to let me do more than _peer_ at one from afar," Hermione announced as she tied her dressing gown closed.  Harry was still unmotivated to move from the warm and twisted sheets of his bed; he watched Hermione dress with half-lidded eyes and a lingering grin.  

"Honestly," Hermione went on.  "You'd think that woman would understand that those texts and materials are there for _us_ to use _to learn_!  It _is_ the point of a school, isn't it?"

"Mmm, hmm," Harry grunted vaguely as he watched Hermione tie up her hair into a loose knot that, coincidentally, exposed one of the more kissable areas of her neck.  

"You're not even listening to me," Hermione grumped as she crossed her arms over her chest and mock-glared at Harry now. 

"I am," he protested.  "You wanted to go take a shower.  See?"  Harry now felt motive to rise from bed and threw off the sheets, exposing himself in all his nakedness.  "Now, was that the Prefect's bath you wanted to use or," he scratched his head contemplatively, "the boys showers are just down a floor from here...?"  

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to leave without a word.  

"Hey!  Wait—wait up!" Harry said as he hurried to try to find a dressing gown in his wardrobe.  

"I'll be using the showers in the girls' dormitory!" she called out from the stairwell.  "I suggest you recall what happens when a boy tries to step foot on our staircase!"

Harry frowned at hearing her retreating voice and had half a thought to use his Firebolt to fly up the girls' staircase.  

"And don't even _think_ of using your broom!" Hermione's voice echoed up the stone stairwell.  

~

At lunch, Harry had hoped to see Professor Dumbledore back from London and his work as Chief Warlock.  Unfortunately, Harry was doomed to more fruitless speculation along with the rest of the Wizarding world as to what was going on with the investigations into the murders of Fudge and Planesse and the related investigation into Percy Weasley.  Harry had even had a dream the previous night where Percy was begging for mercy on his knees before Fudge who was dressed in a high-collared robe and who turned Percy into a ferret and then bounced him down the marble steps of Gringotts.  

After lunch in the very nearly empty Great Hall, Harry had decided to take advantage of the last few student-free hours by having the quidditch pitch to himself.  It was a bright, clear day and despite the cold and glare from the sun shining down upon the snow, it still made for a couple hours of fine flying.   

After his flight, Harry returned to the warmth of the castle and, with his Firebolt slung over his shoulder, headed to the library to find Hermione.  He was just walking down the second floor corridor and when he heard the sounds of McGonagall's voice wafting out of the half-open door to the staff room.  

"Filius, here's a list of your students to keep an eye on," she said primly.  

Harry stopped abruptly in mid-step and proceeded forward so slowly he looked as if he'd been hit with the Impediment Jinx.  He wondered immediately who these students were and why they were being watched.  

"Severus, you already have yours, I know," McGonagall said.  

"Oh dear," the voice of Professor Sprout said then.  "Severus, you seem to have lost a number of students completely!  Nearly a dozen!"  She made a tutting sound while Flitwick could also be heard murmuring, "Oh, dear."  

Harry had the feeling they were now going over lists of students for the next term.  Some, a good number of Slytherins it sounded like, sounded to not be returning at all.  Harry wondered with a swoop of impotence if it was because they'd been victims of some of the attacks over break.  The other option in his mind, that they'd declined to return this term because they were working as Death Eaters, wasn't much better though.  

Harry wondered what McGonagall meant when she'd mentioned some students who needed watching.   Ahead, he saw the Fat Friar rounding the corner and so Harry sped up to pass the opened staff-room door.  The ones who needed watching, he reckoned, were ones who were probably suspected of being spies for the Death Eaters.  He'd have to ask McGonagall later.  

~

~

With Sunday evening's arrival of students back from break, came gossip, rumours and wild speculation pertaining to all the various events that'd occurred over holiday. 

"My dad thinks Fudge was a Death Eater all along!"

"I heard it was like the Quibbler said a _year_ ago—Fudge had been having Goblins offed and baked into pies until one of _them_ tried to get even with him."

The chatter in the Common Room that evening was at an all-time high as everyone desperately tried to catch up on the latest gossip.  Harry and Hermione, who'd staked out their favorite chairs near the fireplace immediately after their dinner and as students were returning, could also hear several rather nasty comments regarding the press's favorite scapegoat at the moment: Percy.  

"My dad works at the Ministry and he said Percy was only promoted because he had to have been working for You-Know-Who for _years_.  Remember when Sirius Black escaped from the castle that one year?  Percy was _Head Boy_—betcha he helped him!" 

Harry kept his head down as he read his Charms text and resolutely did not acknowledge anyone or any of the comments slinging about.  He could feel Hermione's gaze flicker to him whenever one mentioned someone they knew.  

"I wonder where Ginny and Ron are," Hermione muttered as the portrait hole opened yet again to let in a flurry of more Gryffindors who were chattering away.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Ron is avoiding us," Harry said without even looking up.  He was working on refreshing his memory on the Potions project he and his group were expected to present on in two weeks.  Padma had sent word with Pavarti that she thought their group should set up some times to meet outside of class to ensure they were prepared.  

Hermione was still muttering about where Ginny was when the portrait hole opened again; this time to let in a worn-looking Dean Thomas.   Harry looked up to see him when Hermione called out, "Dean, are you all right?  Here—have a seat."  She rose and cleared her books off and onto the floor and beckoned for Dean to sit down.  Seamus, who'd been chatting up Lavender on the couch, came over, too.

"You look like you haven't slept all break, mate," Seamus said to Dean.  "Where've you been?  Did you catch a later train?"

It was true, Harry could see.  Dean's eyes looked bloodshot and he seemed frazzled.  

Dean nodded vaguely and said, "No, been talking to McGonagall."  

"Oh!" Hermione said with a small gasp.  "It wasn't your last term's marks, was it?  I know they're..." but she trailed off as Dean looked at her sombre faced and shook his head.  

"You didn't go home, did you?" Dean said to Hermione.  

Most all the Gryffindors believed Harry and Hermione had spent all of the winter holidays at the castle.  Hermione just shook her head and looked to Dean for an explanation.  

"They're all over the place," he said cryptically.  "First, my dad thought the furnace had gone out in our flat.  But then I knew... I _knew_ it wasn't the furnace.  I heard...I could _hear_ them and I knew.  None of the muggles know....  You guys don't know..."  He turned to Harry then, who had a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that he _did_ know what Dean was talking about, and said, "I saw some even—might've been as good as gone myself if it weren't for you, Harry."

"Dementors," Harry said barely above a whisper.  

"_What?!_" Pavarti shrilled as Lavender covered her mouth with her hand.  They both went from listening in vaguely from a nearby couch, to sitting cross-legged on the floor beside Hermione and paying rapt attention.  

Dean just nodded at Harry.  "You heard?  I didn't know if...I mean _none_ of our papers said anything.  I checked the _Prophet _on the trip up here.  I went to McGonagall as soon as I got to the castle.  If I'd have had an owl, I'd have sent it to the Ministry to call for Aurors or something."

"They're not helping," Harry said dully, making Dean's eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.  "The Ministry's not doing anything on it."

"It's true," Hermione said.  "I get to a few muggle newspapers just to keep an eye out for this...well, this sort of thing and we've watched as they've reported on it."

"You..." Dean was speechless.  "You _knew_?  The _Ministry_ knew all along?  They came by _three_ different times before I finally got a Patronus to work that drove them away!" he said, shouting now and leaning forward as he looked wildly between Harry and Hermione.  

"I don't get it," Lavender said, looking frightened and puzzled.  "What were Dementors doing in—" she paused as she tried to remember where Dean was from.  "London, right?"

"Yeah, West Ham," Dean said glumly.  

Hermione started nodding at this and said, "Yes, I recall reading that London's East End was especially riddled with the...well, the muggle press doesn't really know what it is, but that was one section of town that had several of these cases of mysterious deaths and disappearances."  She turned to Harry then and asked, "Remember that one spread in _The Mirror_?  The one that tried to layout evidence that it was all an elaborate government plot?"  She looked to Dean then, saying, "No offence or anything, but, well, it _is_ known as rather a..."

"Shithole?" Dean offered.  Hermione looked reluctant to agree readily.  "Don't worry," Dean said with a wave.  "A lot of it is.  S'why no one seems to be bothered much that people are dropping dead around there.  I never saw any Dementors come back, though--not on my street; not after I finally chased them away."  

"Wow," said Seamus quietly.  "Did you get in trouble for using magic outside of school?"

Dean shook his head.  "I didn't even care—I actually thought it might help alert the Ministry if they saw me trying to cast the Patronus Charm."  

"The Ministry's had far more to deal with than underage magic," Hermione said darkly.  

Dean nodded.  "That's about what McGonagall said; said she'd make a note and make sure it was reported.  She got called away then and said I could talk to her later.  I didn't even know about the Minister getting killed until I talked with her!  I feel so isolated!" he said with frustration.  "Don't get me wrong—I miss my parents and little brother and everything, but bloody_ hell,_ am I glad to be back here in this world!"  

Lavender, Seamus and Pavarti then proceeded to fill Dean in on all the other details of the past several weeks.  Harry was glad to hear they all seemed to have the utmost confidence in Dumbledore's appointed Minister but the majority of the news was still quite depressing.  Even Lavender and Pavarti who usually couldn't help but be effervescent when gossiping seemed not quite as bubbly.  

"Doesn't anyone have any good news?" Dean said despairingly.  "Although, I guess Fudge kicking it _is_ good but..."

"Oh! I do!" Seamus said with a bright grin now.  "Guess what I found out about me mum?  She's over the moon about it!"  He didn't wait for anyone to answer before he announced with pride, "I'm going to be a big brother!   Ain't it brilliant?  Me mum is..." he trailed off, unable to find words to describe his mother's joy, as a beaming smile spread across his face.  "Well, besides me, it's really all she'll have of Da'.  She waited to tell me 'til Christmas morning.  She says she feels like it's one last gift from me da', you know? _Brilliant_, it is."  

As Harry watched the Seamus' face light with joy and happiness at this new life, he couldn't help but be reminded of the hopes that Tonks had expressed about always wanting a younger brother or sister.  Tonks and Seamus were two people who had both lost their fathers to the Halloween attacks and the idea that the taking of one life was being replaced with another was so heart warming that Harry couldn't help but smile himself; he was also now very dearly hoping Andy was right and that she really _was_ pregnant with another little Tonks.  _They deserved it_, he thought as Hermione gave him an odd look.   

But Hermione hadn't time to explain exactly why she was worrying her lower lip because at that moment, Ginny walked in through the portrait hole with Zoe Sorensen at her side.  Ginny spotted the group of Gryffindor sixth-years and headed right over to Harry's side.  

"Guess where Ron is," she said darkly as she nodded greetings to everyone else around them.  

"He did come back, didn't he?" Harry asked with some trepidation.  The possibility that Ron would ditch the entire concept of school had occurred to Harry.  

"Oh, yes," Ginny said with a deep sigh.  "Both he and I spent the last week with Bill and Fleur.  Bill took us to the train station himself.  Mind you, Ron wasn't keen on coming back and Bill _did_ have to threaten to bind him up and send him by freight owl, but he's here now."

"But where is he then?" Hermione asked, clearly not sure she really wanted to know.

"Hospital wing," Zoe said nonchalantly as she blew a large lime green bubble from her chewing gum.

Harry didn't even have a chance to ask why before Ginny rolled her eyes and said, "He insisted on taking a carriage from Hogsmeade to the castle all by himself.  He was in a foul mood the whole day.   There were a few people who made rude comments about being a Weasley—you know, because of Percy."  Ginny said this as if she could care less and said the name 'Percy' like it was some vile and nasty potions ingredient they had to dissect.   "I guess Ron couldn't let some of the comments pass and Malfoy provoked him into a fight in the Entrance Hall.  Zoe, Luna and I were walking in and saw it.  Luna disarmed them both and since Filch was watching, we all made a show of stunning them and taking them both to McGonagall straight away."

"Luna Lovegood disarmed both Ron _and_ Malfoy in the Entrance Hall?" Seamus asked with widened eyes and a look that clearly said he wished he'd have seen that in person.  

Ginny nodded and, with a sly grin, said, "All part of our Prefectly Duty."  

"So, why is Ron still in the hospital wing?" Hermione asked.  "Was he severely hurt?"

Ginny shook her head.  "Pride mostly.  He had a cut across the side of his head and bruised knuckles, but that's about it.  Malfoy was worse.  You know Ron, he skipped magic all together and went straight for the five-knuckled approach."  

"Did he get a good hit in?" Harry asked at the same time Dean asked, "Is Malfoy hurt?"

Hermione did her best to look disapprovingly at both of them as Ginny said, "Oh, Malfoy was howling like a girl as soon as Ron landed a fist into his gut."

Seamus and Dean both made noises of manly approval.  Harry was forced into maintaining an ambivalent face as Hermione was giving him a pointed look.  

Ginny went on, heedless of the silent exchange between Harry and Hermione.  "McGonagall made us all leave when we got to the hospital wing.  We saw Snape scowling his way down the corridor when we left." 

Hermione kept giving Harry an unreadable look and, as the topic fell to Dean talking about how awful the Dementors were again, Hermione pulled Harry's ear down to whisper, "You know Ron's still in this foul mood because you're both in a fight again, don't you?"

Harry pulled back and gave her a dark look as he said, "Don't you _dare_ suggest I go talk to him."  Hermione bit her lip and looked down at her hands that were folded in her lap.  "Hermione!" Harry said with indignation.   He lowered his voice then and leaned forward to hiss, "Have you forgotten what he said about _you_?  Did you forget _when_ he decided to throw this last little tantrum?  I _did_ try to explain myself to him—and I didn't have to then and I certainly won't _now_!"  

Hermione only looked up through her lashes at Harry until he huffed and pushed himself out of his chair.  He turned around, looking to spot Ginny's red hair amongst all the other Gryffindors in the Common Room.  She had migrated over to a window seat and was talking animatedly to some boy who seemed to be leaning closer and closer to her.  

"Gin," Harry said as he made his way over to her.  "Can I talk to you?"  The tall dark-haired boy she'd been talking with shot Harry an annoyed look that Harry ignored.  

"What is it?" Ginny asked, seemingly reluctant to leave her spot.

Harry just jerked his head towards a nearby corner and then headed towards it; fully expecting her to follow and rather hoping it further annoyed the boy with whom she was speaking.  

She threw an apologetic look toward her friend and stalked over to Harry then.  "What?" she said as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked expectantly at Harry.  

"Aren't you with Dean?" Harry asked.  It wasn't the point of his wanting to talk to her but he was perplexed by her behavior.

Ginny rolled her eyes.  "Dean and I haven't been together since early December.  Is that why you're here?  To keep tabs on me?"

Harry shook his head.  "No, no.  I—nevermind.  That wasn't the point.  I just didn't know and was surprised to...er, nevermind."  

Ginny gave him a look that said he'd better get on with it.  

"Well, how is everyone?"  Ginny looked confused.  "Your mum?  Your dad?"  Harry dropped his voice.  "Dumbledore's been too busy to even stop back here at Hogwarts since all the stuff came out with Fudge and Percy.  We've only read what's printed in the papers.  Why did you and Ron have to stay at Bill's?  Nothing happened at the Burrow, did it?"  

Ginny's expression softened at realizing the point of Harry's talk.  "Oh, no.  The Burrow is fine.  Dad did get a few Howlers though the first few days after news of Percy came out.  Some people were blaming Mum and Dad for raising Percy to be...whatever he is."  Harry must have made a face at this because Ginny nodded and said, "Yeah, it's mad.  Charlie's still here.  He put in for an extended holiday until things quiet down."

"Are they?" Harry asked.  "Quieting down yet?"

Ginny just laughed.  "Oh, no.  We stayed with Bill just for a change of scenery; that and Bill said Ron seemed to need the influence of a big brother around since Mum and Dad were so busy.  Dad had to get both Bill and Charlie to finally help bring Mum home from where she'd camped out at the Ministry.  She was so _happy_ to believe Percy was cursed!"

"_Happy_?  Do _you_ believe it?" Harry asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes and then toed a patch of frayed carpet.  "Mum's ready to believe it because it means that Percy never hated her and didn't really mean any of the awful stuff he said."  

Harry nodded.  "And the rest of you?"

"Charlie and Bill are mad at him still if for nothing else than dragging the family name through the mud.  The twins say they're planning their own personal interrogation of Percy if he doesn't get chucked straight into Azkaban and Ron..."

"What about you?" Harry asked shrewdly.

Ginny sighed and looked suddenly older and wiser beyond her years.  "Well...I think I've figured something out," she said slowly.  "You remember Professor Moody?  Well, he wasn't Moody but he showed all the classes the Unforgiveables?  He put each of us under the Imperious Curse and I can still remember that feeling _perfectly_."

Ginny's eyes closed at the memory and Harry wondered if it was similar to what she felt when she'd been possessed by Riddle's diary.  

"It was all light and breezy and I didn't have a care in the world.  He told me to sing the school song and, though it seemed a bit silly, it wasn't something that totally repulsed me.  I did it.  I sang the stupid school song without a care in the world."  Her eyes were open now and Harry saw a spark in them that was more than her usual twinkle of mere mischief.   "It wasn't at all like being told what to do by Tom." 

Harry could see in her eyes a flash of the memories; blood-red writing on the wall, a vortex of wind and energy drawing her into the diary, and the young visage of a sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle who spoke with a red glint in his eyes.  

"At first Tom asked me to do thing like write about myself and tell me about..." she looked sheepish for a moment, "you.  I _wanted_ to do those things.  But then he started to ask more...things I _didn't_ want to do.  The more he asked me to do these things, the more I felt I should fight—and the more I did fight it.  Remember?  I threw it away once."  

She shook her head and smoothed a hand over her hair.  "But that's not the point.  See, I think that if you're being cursed and you really don't mind going along with whatever you're being told to do, I don't think you fight it very much.  Everyone knows _you_ can fight it, Harry, " she said lightly.  "But we also know you're a thick-headed and stubborn prat at times."  She flashed him a smile to show she meant no offense.   "You fight anyone who tells you what to do.  And see, I don't think_ I_ can forgive Percy very easily because, even if he was cursed from day one when he decided to believe Fudge and not Dad, that's _two years_!  If Percy hadn't believed in what he was being told to do, he would have—_could have_—fought it at least once.  He wasn't kept Stunned and locked in some trunk like the real Moody was for a year.  Percy, if he'd _tried_ to fight the curse, could have managed to _at least_ try to let someone know he was in trouble."  Ginny crossed her arms decisively now and finished, "So I think Percy is guilty of at least not _wanting_ to do anything different than he was told.  The blubbing act was all because he was caught."

Harry was still thinking on this as he sat up in his bed, scratching away in his journal by wandlight.  He'd went over to Hermione after his talk with Ginny and said he was tired and would be heading up to bed so that she couldn't pester him again with any inane ideas of him going to find Ron.  Besides, if Harry knew Ron, Ron was probably trying to find a reason to stay away from Gryffindor Tower to avoid seeing Hermione and Harry.  Ron would only come back to the tower well after curfew, if at all tonight.  Harry also knew it didn't take much to convince Madam Pomfrey one was in dire need of a night in the hospital wing. 

As Harry wrote, he heard three other people filter into the dormitory.  The snores that soon followed confirmed that Neville was surely out there but still; no noise could be heard from Ron's bed.  

It was late but Harry had slept in quite late that morning (and stayed in bed even later, he recalled happily).   Harry now recalled how he'd briefly had a few flashes of Ginny's thoughts as she spoke to him about Riddle.  He wrote down everything he could remember from the instance of brief Legilimency as he had yet to find a focus to sharpen this skill.  

_Ginny was looking into my eyes the entire time she spoke.  The images I saw from her were those of her own memories.  She wasn't focusing on seeing me in front of her, but on her memories, it seemed.   Did she then help to project these images?  Maybe it helped that I knew what all three things I saw looked like, as I'd seem them all before_.  

Harry thought back and compared this use of Legilimency with some of his previous trials with it while he was still at Headquarters.  At Grimmauld Place, he soon realized there had been little to discover about those residing there with him other than that which he already knew.   This and the fact that he often felt like he was prying unnecessarily, led him to only play with this skill on occasion over holiday.   

Lupin's eyes had always held a sorrow and torment that seemed to speak equally to the pain he endured through his affliction and through the pain he seemed to feel as the last lonely member of a once-close group of friends.  Lupin would easily meet Harry's gaze and lose himself in his thoughts.  However, Harry usually found the raw intensity of pain present in the werewolf's eyes to be too much and even disconcerting.  It made him wonder if that sorrow was something that Lupin always felt or if it was particularly sharp when he looked at Harry.  Harry wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.  

Tonks was also without hesitation willing to meet and hold Harry's gaze.  The mischief and pure individuality of her personality was reflected in the randomness and breakneck speed of her thoughts.  Harry often felt dizzy from just a few moments of peeking into her mind and sometimes, he couldn't help but blush madly at the way her mind would suddenly veer into the gutter.   Again, he had no idea if this was normal for Tonks or if this was reserved for when she looked at and spoke to Harry; and again, Harry wasn't sure he really wanted to know.  

The Grangers, Harry wasn't surprised, always seemed to possess thoughts filled with questions; questions about him and, most especially, questions about Hermione.  Hermione, as a test subject of Harry's, was in a category all unto her own.  Harry flipped back a few pages in the journal to read what he'd written about what he'd seen in Hermione's eyes.

_Hermione seems to be a bad test subject for any sort of Legilimency.  So many memories of hers are ones I share as well.  How can I even be sure they're hers and not mine?  Even when I see my face in her memories, I seem so much more through her eyes.  Better, stronger, braver, even handsome.  I seem like a better person and I wonder if she sees me like that or if that's only how I wish she sees me.    I hope it's not all in her mind.  If I could, I'd choose to be the one she sees me as.    _

_And I see all these things without even trying anymore.  It's always there now; this reflection of a better me staring back at me through her eyes.  But I don't think it's just her.  It's not some image of her own creation in which she'd like to mold me.  It's not like that.  I think it might be me; my mind, my desire even.  Yes, I see her and I know I should be more; I need to be more.  _

_Or maybe her mind is blank at these times and she's only seeing me; the image and sight of me occupying all the conscious space of her mind.  _

_But this is Hermione.  Her mind is never so simple.  Even beyond an image, there're always thoughts flying about.  Sometimes I think they're hers but I've never experienced that with anyone else so then I think they must be mine.  But other times, they're so unmistakably in Hermione's own voice that I can't imagine they're not her thoughts.  _

_And always, always, after I find myself having been lost in her eyes without an idea of the time passed, I feel like all my own defenses and shields have been melted away.  And I can never seem to be concerned._

_And maybe that's the real reason Voldemort has seen Hermione through my eyes?  Or maybe the reason my mind's shields fall is because of the connection.  If it's love..._

His entry had trailed off there; the thought reluctant to be completed.  Yes, Hermione was a case all unto her own.  

And the last resident of Grimmauld Place, Andy, had only confirmed that which Harry already knew: Andy was even more random and unpredictable than Tonks.   Andy's thoughts went from careening wildly to stopping so abruptly that Harry often felt like he'd smacked into a figurative wall of fog.  

Harry was eager to take advantage of the greater number of people surrounding him at Hogwarts and gain more experience in Legilimency.  So far, he knew he had to find something to focus upon projecting through his own eyes that would help keep the other person looking into his eyes.  He knew asking about memories or specific things and not just mere thoughts was also an important key.  

Harry flipped back to the most recent entry and flipped the gold cord in between the pages along with his quill.  As he tucked the book and other things away for the night and then rubbed his eyes sleepily, he vowed to make good progress with his Legilimency skills this term.  Too tired to move to make a note of it in his journal, Harry vaguely noted that his voices were still there; increased in volume and eager to offer encouragement for his vow to increase any and every skill.  

~

~

The first class of the new term was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall.  Harry had not seen Professor Dumbledore yet at breakfast but was hopeful the headmaster might return in time for his scheduled afternoon of private tutoring with Harry.  

"Potter, do me a favour and make all the pairs of desks face one another," McGonagall asked as Harry and Hermione were the first students to arrive.  

Harry dropped his bag onto the floor and began to turn around the first desk.

"Potter," McGonagall said with a note of exasperation.  "Try using magic?  Better yet, try Transfiguration.  Here's a clue—you should be able to do this with one spell."  She dropped a stack of books onto her desk and then returned back into her office.  

Harry rolled his eyes at Hermione who was giving him a superior look that clearly said she would have known that.  With a wave and flourish of his wand, Harry animated and then directed all the pairs of desks in the room to face one another.  He was just using his wand to direct the last pair into place when a drawling voice made him want to start throwing hexes.

"Showing off already Potter?" Draco Malfoy said as he sauntered in and scowled at the new arrangements of desks.  "Please, my breakfast's not even settled yet and if seeing you wave your wand about isn't enough to make me retch, then seeing Granger this early is."

Pansy Parkinson was trailing Malfoy like a shadow and added nastily, "Oh, I bet Potter _likes_ to see a little mudblood first thing in the morning!"   

Hermione's hand was on Harry's arm and he could hear her muttering, "Don't even bother with them."

Harry turned to take one of the seats near the front when Malfoy drawled again, "Have a good holiday, Potter?  Get to visit with all your family?  Oh wait, you don't have any, do you?"  He laughed at his own joke as Pansy simpered with a hand on his shoulder.  

"Gee, I don't know Malfoy," Harry said twisting in his seat to glare back at the pointy-faced blond.  "At least _I_ didn't have to trek off to prison to visit any family members or harbour any fugitives to see family for holidays.  How about you?"

Malfoy's pale (and pasty) face turned an angry shade of red, but before he could retort, several other students entered the classroom and McGonagall's voice rang out sharply.  

"Potter, Malfoy, please confine your rivalries to the Quidditch pitch.  You two," she said pointing to Pansy and Malfoy, "split up and sit apart.  Malfoy—front row, please.  Potter, move up here by my desk.  We have an uneven number in the class now and, as we need to be partnering up for the work today, you'll work with me."

The class consisted of McGonagall instructing everyone to begin practicing casting simple color-switching spells on their hair while a partner watched and told them how well they were doing.  McGonagall set them all to work and then walked over to where Harry sat far away from all the others and said in a low voice, "Potter, conjure yourself a mirror for now and practice the spells on the board.  Practice using your own skills to revert back to yourself."  

As McGonagall strode away to check on the progress of the class, Harry heard Pansy snicker and say, "Weasley, you should take note of these spells so he get rid of those spots all over your face." 

This reminded Harry that this was a class, which Ron should also be attending.  He turned in his seat and twisted around to look for Ron's bright red head.  He found it seated in the far back of the classroom; he was paired with Seamus and both were scowling at their misfortune of being seated beside Pansy and her partner.  

Despite feeling pang of regret at not even getting to see Ron before now, Harry also felt a lingering and unresolved anger concerning Ron's behavior at the Celebration. 

"Turn around, _Potter_," Malfoy hissed from his seat in the front row where he partnered with a disgruntled looking Ernie Macmillan.  "You're being punished so get back to facing the front," he said with a smug little smirk.

Harry checked once to make sure McGonagall was paying attention to helping out two Ravenclaws and shot back, "I think being forced to partner with _you _and having to stare at _your_ pointy little ferret face would be a far worse punishment.   My sympathies, Macmillan."   Ernie shot Harry a look of suffering.   

Throughout the rest of the class Harry could see, in the reflection of his mirror, Malfoy continuing to glare at the back of his head.  In the end, Harry spent more time glaring at Malfoy's reflection than he did working on transfiguration.   

Near the end of class, McGonagall strolled back up front near Harry and said, "I received an owl from the Headmaster this morning.  He will be returning here this evening.  In lieu of your afternoon session with him, perhaps you should find a quiet place to do more training on your skills?"  The bell rang then and McGonagall quickly added, "And I suspect we'll all want to meet after dinner this evening to hear what Professor Dumbledore has to say.  You may pass that along to Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor," Harry said as he vanished his mirror and picked up his bag.  

He turned to find Hermione then but, instead found Malfoy lingering at his desk while unconvincingly seeming to search for something under his desk.    "Looking for something, Malfoy?" Harry asked slyly as he walked towards the seat previously occupied by Ernie.  

Malfoy's head snapped up to glare at Harry.  The Slytherin straightened up then and haughtily brushed off the non-existent dirt from the front of his robes.  

As Malfoy redirected his grey-eyed glare from his robes back to Harry, a whim struck Harry as he spied Malfoy's Transfiguration text still out.  

"Don't forget your book, Malfoy," Harry said as he watched cool grey eyes flicker down to the desktop and then back up to Harry's.   Harry spoke deliberately then as he added, "A book can be a tricky thing to find once it's gone missing."

Malfoy's eyes did little but radiate their usual loathing until the briefest flash of surprise crossed Malfoy's face.  Harry's heart was thumping as he wished he could will Malfoy to let him into his mind.  But it lasted for only a moment before Malfoy broke off eye contact and, spitefully, his gaze flicked up towards Harry's infamous scar and then sneered at the whole of Harry.

"_You don't know anything_," Malfoy spat in a low voice.  

Harry shrugged and watched Malfoy's fist tighten in his robe pocket.  _Wand_, Harry thought.  "I know enough to know both your not-so-little bodyguards have left you _all alone now_," Harry said evenly as he saw, out of the corner of his eye, Hermione lingering near the door.  Oh, what Harry wouldn't give for a few moments alone with Malfoy and no one to step in to break up the duel.  

Malfoy's wand arm twitched in a suppressed urge to draw his wand as Malfoy's gaze caught on something just over Harry's shoulder.  Judging from Malfoy's expression, it was either a trick to get Harry to look or it was McGonagall; Harry was betting on the latter.  

"Mister Malfoy?" McGonagall's curt voice called out then to confirm his suspicions.  "I'd like to have a word with you concerning your marks for last term in my course."

Malfoy immediately made to protest.  "I have class next, Professor.  Potions--Professor Snape does not tolerate tardiness."  

McGonagall didn't seem persuaded.  "Yet you've still decided to linger here after the bell...  Up here, now.  I want a word and Professor Snape can just make due.  Potter, move along."  

Once out in the corridors, Hermione pulled Harry to her and asked, "What was all _that_ about?"

"With Malfoy?"

"Yes!  Since when do you try to get _chatty_ with him?"

Harry shrugged and leaned in to whisper, "Just trying my Legilimency skills when I get the chance."

"Oh!" she said as her eyes widened.  "Did it work?" Hermione inquired eagerly as they descended a stairwell that led down to the dungeons.  

Harry made a face and his shoulders slumped.  "Not really.  He looked away before I could see anything."  

Hermione's posture mimicked Harry's disappointment.  "Well," she said, "perhaps next class, you can ask McGonagall to partner you with Malfoy and you can chat him up and stare at each other the entire class period."

Harry pulled an even more disgusted face at that and bumped Hermione with his hip playfully.  "Now that's just cruel and unusual punishment."   He then leaned in again to tell Hermione about the owl McGonagall had received.  Despite the fact they were just turning into the dreaded Potions lab, Hermione smiled brightly at this news.

Of course, this only put Snape in a decidedly sour mood.  

"If the golden love couple of Gryffindor would kindly find their seats..." he intoned effectively wiping the smile off of Hermione's face.  "Excellent," he said with a sneer as Harry and Hermione parted towards their tables on either side of the room.   "Ah, yes, and five points from Gryffindor for each Potter and Granger...for making the rest of us suffer your _simpering_ over one another."

Harry scowled as he took his seat beside Padma and a smug Millicent Bulstrode.  "We were _not_ simpering," he muttered crossly.  Then, finding their fourth member of their lab group missing, asked out loud, "Where's Tracey?"

Millicent smirked and said, "What's it to you, Potter?  One less Slytherin to deal with.  Now, if only we could get rid of some of the _real_ filth around here."  This last comment was said as she shot a nasty, sidelong glance towards Hermione who seemed to be getting a very cold shoulder from her two Slytherin group mates.  

Harry ignored Millicent and looked to Padma.  "Where is she?  Did she drop?"  

Padma just shrugged and then threw a significant glance over Harry's shoulder.  Harry turned and saw Snape watching him disdainfully.  

"Now...if Potter has sufficiently satiated his curiosity, perhaps we can actually begin class?  As even our most _obtuse_ celebrity has deduced, we are missing a few students and shall not be graced with their return."  

Harry tried to look about and noticed there was one group that only had two people in it where, previously it'd had three.  Pansy Parkinson and Mandy Brocklehurst sat alone and at opposite ends of their table.  

Snape went on, "Therefore, I will rearrange the class to compensate for the group that has lost two members since class began.  Miss Bulstrode?" he said as he paused in the center of Mandy and Pansy's table.  "If you would move to join Miss Parkinson and Miss Brocklehurst, please?"

Harry looked around at each of the four lab groups; two of which originally had three members.  With Millicent leaving him and Padma, that now made for three of the groups to consist of three people each; all except for Harry and Padma, that is, who went from four members last term to only two now remaining.  

"That's not fair," Harry whispered under his breath to Padma.  

Snape spoke over Harry's whispering and said, "Perhaps _some_ might not recall that _this_ group," he said as he tapped where Millicent now sat, smiling cattily at Pansy, "originally held four members.  Mister Weasley left us without _any _effort to exert his meagre skills and now, Mister Li has left this group as well.  They've lost _two_ people and I've decided to move one person from another group that started with four members to aid this now-depleted group."

Padma's hand shot into the air in Hermione-like fashion.  "Professor Snape?  Sir—will we—"

Snape continued to talk over her as he said, "_All_ groups are required to do the same work.  Life is not always brimming with equity, Miss Patil.  I suggest you learn that lesson here where it's merely overcome by increased diligence."  

And with that, Padma slumped back into her chair and sighed heavily as Snape began lecturing on alternative preparations of doxy venom.  

Snape had rarely lectured for so long in a NEWT Potions class and, at first, Harry thought it was because he didn't trust them all to brew anything on their first day back from holiday.  However, with only a half-hour remaining of class time, Harry found out _exactly_ what Snape's motive had been.  

"And now," Snape announced as he popped the fob on a black pocket watch, "each group shall prepare the Paralysis Potion.  With half an hour, that should _just_ be enough time for a group of three to finish if you each work together efficiently.  Begin."  

Harry and Padma were reluctant to even try since it sounded like they wouldn't finish anyway.  However, Harry could just imagine Snape's gloating voice if Harry failed to give '_any_ effort to exert his meagre skills'.  He knew he'd be kicked out of Potions before he could throw a flobberworm at the greasy git.  

"Come on," he said in an undertone to Padma.  "We can't let _him_ get to us."  

Padma nodded and then they proceeded to create a slicing, dicing and shredding assembly line that resulted in them actually just finishing just as the class ended.  They didn't get full points though because the color was more _puce_ than pea green, but Harry saw this as evidence that Snape was just brassed off they'd completed the potion.  And if he had any doubt about this, it was cemented when Snape paused before moving on to the next cauldron and said, "Oh, and five points from Gryffindor for making me wait to start class, Potter.  And five from Ravenclaw, Patil, for questioning a professor."  

Harry and Padma both left class in ill-tempered moods and Harry almost bit off Hermione's head when she came up to them in the corridor and said, "Well at least neither of you have to endure working with Millicent Bulstrode any longer.  That's good, isn't it?"

"Oh, sure," Harry said bitterly.  "It's _wonderful_ we get to do all the work of three people!"

Hermione frowned as Harry snapped at her.  "But you said Millicent hardly ever did anything besides boss the rest of you around?"

"Sure," Padma said.  "But Tracey helped and she knew what she was doing."

Harry gave Padma a sharp look.  "You mean _I_ don't know what I'm doing?" 

Padma took a deep breath and said, "Look, this does no good if you and I start getting at each other's throats.  I didn't mean anything by it, Harry.  It's just so—"she made a growl of frustration and then said, "You're right, we can't let Snape get to us.  We're going to have work hard, is all.  Now about that project..."

~

As Harry walked Hermione to her Arithmancy class after lunch, Hermione asked, "Don't you wonder why Tracey and Su weren't in classes this morning?"  She leaned over and whispered, "I noticed they were both missing in Transfiguration when I overheard Michael Corner telling Anthony Goldstein that Su Li's family left the country because of the threat of Voldemort.  His mother was muggleborn and they had family abroad.  Goldstein wasn't even convinced they got out of the country."  

Harry reminded her what he'd overheard McGonagall say the previous day about Slytherin losing so many students and asked, "Do you think Tracey left school then, too?"

Hermione looked furtively over her shoulder to make sure no one could overhear and then whispered, "I'm not sure, but...well, what if she was muggleborn?  Oh, maybe that's ridiculous but isn't it _possible_?"

"What, that there's some muggleborns in Slytherin?  You're not really asking that, are you?" Harry said with an incredulous look.  

Hermione looked like that was exactly what she was asking.  

"Hermione," Harry said with an air of certainty, "have you forgotten that we know of at least one Slytherin who had a muggle for a father?  Not even a muggle_born_, but a _muggle_!"  

"Oh, Harry!  I think the Hat might make an exception for _Tom Riddle_!  His mother was an _heir of Slytherin_!" Hermione countered.  "Didn't you hear the Hat last year?  It told us that Slytherin chose those only pure in blood."

"Then why are you even asking?" Harry inquired.  "If you're telling me it's impossible that a muggleborn could get sorted there, then why suggest it?  Why didn't you just ask Blaise or Daphne in class about Tracey?  They were both in your potions group."  

Hermione gave Harry a dejected look and said, "Because neither of them could say more than, 'Dice the mallow root, please,' and Malfoy kept making rude comments about me so I _know_ he was watching us."  

"Well," Harry said as they approached the door to the Arithmancy classroom.  "Malfoy is _always_ a nosy little ferret."  He put an arm around her waist then and pulled Hermione close for a quick kiss goodbye.  "You know, I don't see why you just don't go ask the Sorting Hat."

"What?  _You can do that?_" Hermione asked as she looked as if she wanted to sprint all the way to the Headmaster's office and demand to speak with the Hat that very moment.  

Harry shrugged.  "I don't see why not.  You're going to be late, you know..."  

"Remind me to ask about the Hat later!" she said as she heard the bell begin to ring and dashed across the corridor, into her classroom.  

~

~

Harry steered clear of returning to the Common Room for fear of running into Ron.  Instead, he spent the afternoon in the library looking for books on self-transfiguration or Metamorphmagi despite the fact that Madam Pince seemed to be watching Harry awful closely.  No matter which table he switched to, she always seemed to be keeping her hawk-like eyes upon him.  It made him wonder if perhaps she somehow knew exactly what he and Hermione had gotten up to in the Restricted Section just a few days earlier.  

Dinnertime couldn't arrive soon enough and when it finally did, Harry was elated to see Professor Dumbledore, a starred, plum-coloured hat atop his head, present in the center of the head table.  

Harry wasn't the only one excited to see the Headmaster; the chatter among the other students was increased now and Hermione leaned over to say, "I bet everyone is excited because if Dumbledore is back here, then he's done leading the investigations.  There will be news in the _Daily Prophet_ tomorrow, for sure!"

Ginny slid in then beside Hermione and asked in a whisper, "Do you and Harry get more info than the rest of us while you're at school?  You know, because you're in the..._you know_?"  

Hermione looked to Harry before she said, "Well..."

Ginny waved her concern off.  "I'm not going to demand you tell me everything.  Although it would be nice," she said with a grin.  "But—no, I'm just wondering, if Dumbledore or anyone else gives you information on the whole affair with Percy, can you let me know?"  

"Oh, I'm sure Professor Dumbledore or Professor McGonagall would tell both you _and_ Ron right away if there was news on Percy," Hermione said emphatically.  

Indeed, Hermione was correct because just as she finished saying this, Professor McGonagall walked up behind them and said, "Miss Weasley, the headmaster would like to see both you and your brother in the antechamber off the Great Hall.  Just follow Mister Potter and Miss Granger when they leave after dinner."

Part of Harry was quite happy that Ron could finally feel like he was being specially treated and given knowledge of secrets from Dumbledore himself.  The other half of Harry couldn't stop wanting to chuck his jacket-potato at Ron's head after Ginny made him sit down across from her before she'd tell him what McGonagall had said.  

Ginny had only told him that the four of them were to go to meet with Professor Dumbledore after dinner.  At hearing this, Ron shot the space just to the side of Harry a very nasty scowl.  

"How are Bill and Fleur?" Hermione asked Ginny in an effort to ignore Ron's behaviour.  

"Oh, good," Ginny said giving Ron a dirty look when he'd stabbed into a sausage with such force, some of the juices had squirted out and spattered Ginny's face.  "Fleur has a brilliant knack for home decorating charms.  Their flat is adorable now.  It used to just be a dusty, dull flat just like all the rest.  Mum used to have to Floo over there at least once a week to make sure bundimuns didn't get into the baseboards.  Bill used to be a right slob, just like the twins.  But Fleur now has it looking like some flat out of Witch Weekly.  Mum's still not real chuffed about them living together and I think she's jealous that, with Fleur, Bill doesn't need her as often."

"Well that's ridiculous," Hermione said.  "I mean Bill lived all on his own for how many years and all the way out in Egypt!  Does she think he can't take care of himself?"

At this statement, Ron addressed his water goblet and said, "Maybe it's not so much what someone does or doesn't _need_, but that sometimes, people just like to feel _wanted_."  

Hermione's mouth gaped at this and Harry couldn't fail to grasp the true meaning of Ron's comment.  Immediately, Harry countered, "You're _wanted.  _And friends _do_ need each other.  Is that what you think?  That we don't _want_ you any more?"  Harry laughed humourlessly at this and added, "Although, when you're acting a great prat, I'd say _no one_ wants to be around _that_!"

Ron still wouldn't look at either Harry or Hermione but did seem to have a case of red ears as he ripped a dinned roll in half and began buttering it with vigour.  "You just _had_ to go and say that last part, didn't you, _Potter_?" Ron said in a tightly controlled voice.  "You _couldn't_ leave it at just an apology, could you?"

"_Apology?!"_ Harry said indignantly as his voice rose so high it cracked.  "You have some _nerve_, _Weasley_, thinking _I_ owe _you_ an apology!"

"Harry," Hermione tried to restrain him as he leaned forward across the table and pointed a finger at Ron accusingly.  

But Harry wasn't stopping and Ron's face was only growing redder.  

"How about the _apology_ that _you_ owe _Hermione_?!" Harry shouted now as the anger surged through his veins.  

"Harry..."

"How about _your_ apology for going off on the _host_ in the middle of a Celebration?!"  Harry wasn't even seated anymore as he'd leaned across the table, snarling at Ron.  

Ron countered, "How about _you two_ deciding to hook up and never_mind_ telling old third-wheel-_Ron_ because he's so dim he'd probably never even notice even if we snogged across his _lap_?!" 

"How about how _you_ deciding to abandon Hermione's _friendship_ of FIVE YEARS just because _she wasn't interested_?!"  Harry shouted.  Everyone in the hall was watching by now.  

"HOW ABOUT _YOU_--STANDING UP IN FRONT OF MY ENTIRE FAMILY AND TELLING THEM ALL OFF, HUH?!  YOU'RE JUST AS _ARROGANT_ AS SNAPE ALWAYS SAYS!"  

Harry felt the color drain from his face and was distantly aware that both he and Ron were standing up in the middle of a packed Great Hall.  In a low voice, with his heart pounding, Harry spat, "_You_ _jealous, envious, vengeful--"_

Hermione's fed-up cry of, "_Silencio_!" cut off Harry's last word.  Unfortunately, it did little to muffle the sound of Ron's reply.  

"OH, YEAH?  'Cuz I want to be _Harry bloody Potter_!  _Right_!" Ron said with a disgusted look.  "Just forget it.  At best, I'm just part of your _adoring little fan club_ and I'm _sick_ of it."

"Ron," Ginny tried to interject as the drama continued to play out in front of everyone.

"I'm _sick_ of your secrets, Harry.  I'm _sick_ of everything _about_ you.  I don't care if you've got some damn _sacred_ prophecy that declares you the _one and only_ hope of the _entire_ Wizarding world against an eternity under You-Know-Who, I _still_--DON'T _NEED YOU_ AS A FRIEND!!"

This last pronouncement rang across the stunned Great Hall and reverberated in Harry's mind.  The only audible sound he registered was the clatter and clink of silverware on a plate and the steadily approaching sound of footsteps on the stone floor.  

"Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall said in a shaking voice as she cowed Ron with her _most_ disapproving look.  "_All_ of you," she said as she looked from Harry, to Hermione, and then to Ginny.  "Follow_ me_."

Harry was only vaguely aware of his feet moving forward; one step after another as he followed along behind Hermione.  The look on McGonagall's face as she held open the door for each of them was unfathomable and just before the door could close, he heard the distinct cackle of Malfoy's laughter.  

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * 

* * *

Note: There's a Yahoo Group for this fic.  See my profile page for the link.  Cheers!~

* * *


	48. Chapter 51 Left Behind

* * *

****

**Chapter 51. Left Behind**

"I'm _sick_ of your secrets, Harry.  I'm _sick_ of everything _about_ you.  I don't care if you've got some damn _sacred_ prophecy that declares you the _one and only_ hope of the _entire_ Wizarding world against an eternity under You-Know-Who, I _still_--DON'T NEED _you_ AS A friend!"

This last pronouncement rang across the stunned Great Hall and reverberated in Harry's mind.  The only audible sound he registered was the clatter and clink of silverware on a plate and the steadily approaching sound of footsteps on the stone floor. 

"Mister Weasley," Professor McGonagall said in a shaking voice as she cowed Ron with her _most_ disapproving look.  "_All_ of you," she said as she looked from Harry, to Hermione, and then to Ginny.  "Follow_ me_."

Harry was only vaguely aware of his feet moving forward; one step after another as he followed along behind Hermione.  The look on McGonagall's face as she held open the door for each of them was unfathomable and just before the door could close, he heard the distinct cackle of Malfoy's laughter. 

"_You didn't tell him, right?_" Hermione whispered desperately as she spun around and grabbed the front of Harry's robes.

He vaguely recalled feeling a fleeting anger towards her from just moments ago when she'd silenced him and not Ron, but now, Harry couldn't even recall what it was he'd meant to say. 

"Right," she said as he realized he'd not answered her.  "I didn't see when you would have.  He doesn't know it's true."  Hermione's voice was shaky and she looked to McGonagall, who stood beside them, looking a bit breathless.  "He doesn't know it's true," Hermione repeated as if to reassure herself as much as Harry or Professor McGonagall. 

McGonagall nodded once at this and seemed to pull herself up straighter.  "Right, I suggest all of you take a moment to calm yourselves."  She threw a sharp glance at where Ron stood sullenly beside Ginny who was trying her best to settle Ron down.  "Professor Dumbledore should be right along—"

The door to the antechamber off the Great Hall burst open then and, with a flurry of black robes, in swept Snape, wand drawn in a flash, who didn't stop until he had Ron backed against a wall and stammering.

"_Legilimens_!" Snape incanted furiously before anyone could move. 

Ron's eyes rolled up into his head and his hands splayed out on the wall behind him as he slithered down to his knees. 

"_Stop_ that!" Ginny cried as she stepped threateningly towards Snape.  

But Snape was ignoring her; his lips mumbling as he continued to curse Ron.   Ginny's courage was faltering as she froze, watching Ron suffer under the curse.

Harry heard Professor McGonagall beside him intake a deep breath and begin to say, "_Sev_—" but Harry quickly reached out and stopped her with a hand on her forearm.  He tore his eyes away from the sight of a helpless Ron twitching as he sagged against the bottom of the wall. 

"_Wait_," Harry mouthed to McGonagall.   Somehow—for _some_ reason—Harry trusted Snape, more than anyone else in the room, to know how to act in what Harry now saw as a major effing catastrophic time of crisis.   He was too numb right now to even notice the stunned horror on Hermione's face or the tears leaking from Ginny's eyes as neither could tear their eyes from the sight of Ron under the curse. 

Abruptly, Snape's arm jerked his wand down, relinquishing control of Ron's thoughts and he pivoted.  "Of all the words to come from this idiot's mouth, he manages to _jest_ and..." he trailed off as he looked at Ginny and snarled.  "_Pathetic_!" 

Ginny had hurried to Ron's side as soon as the curse had ended and she was trying to coax him awake. 

"What did you _do_ to him?!" she said hotly, glaring up at Snape.

Snape sneered and stalked closer to Ron and Ginny. 

"_Enervate_!" he said as he pointed his wand, causing Ron's eyes to flutter open.  Ron moaned and rubbed the back of his head, which he'd smacked back against the stone wall when the curse had hit him. 

"Weasley," Snape began; making Ron's face flush bright red instantly.  Whether it was anger or embarrassment from whatever Snape had done to him, Harry couldn't tell; he assumed it was a bit of both.  "You are the most _pathetic_ excuse for a wizard to grace these halls--_ever_!  Up!" Snape waved imperiously for Ron to stand up. 

He only made it to his feet because Ginny was already helping him to stand; otherwise it seemed Ron would have remained seated for the next month purely out of spite.

Snape stalked even closer and jabbed a finger towards Ron's face.  "Have you _any_ idea what you just did in there, Weasley?  _Do you_?!" Snape hissed. "You, with your_ all-consuming envy_, go spouting off at the mouth something that _sounds_ like the knowledge the Dark Lord's been seeking _ever_ since his return!"

"Severus?" asked the ever-calm voice of Headmaster Dumbledore.  Harry didn't even recall hearing the door behind them open or close, much less a sound announcing the Headmaster's arrival. 

"Headmaster," Snape began stridently as he turned to face the group near the door. 

Snape stopped then, his shoulders giving an involuntary shudder as his eyes saw Harry and then Hermione.  It didn't take Harry much more than a second to realise one scene in particular that Snape might have glimpsed from Ron's memory that would have caused such a reaction; Harry fought off his own shudder at the thought. 

"Headmaster," Snape began again, this time pointing at the still red-faced Ron.  "Weasley here needs to be made aware of the ramifications of his actions!"  Snape straightened his shoulders and flexed a hand.  "I think it's possible he may _yet_ escape with his life."

"_What_?!" Ron squawked hoarsely. 

"What the _hell_ does that mean?" Ginny demanded, still at Ron's side.  

McGonagall, regaining her voice at the proceedings, said, "_Language_, Miss Weasley!"

"_Well_?" Ginny demanded again. 

"Mister Weasley just painted himself as a _prime target_—a vessel containing the most coveted knowledge around!  There're likely more than a dozen students sending off post right now to the Dark Lord telling of the news just flung about in the Great Hall!"  Snape was wearing his sadistic smile that never meant anything good for anyone but him.  "You really are incapable of thought, aren't you, you _Weasleys_?"

"Severus—" McGonagall warned. 

"Oh, yes," Snape went on in silky voice, "I've seen how Mister Weasley here thinks—_when_ he thinks, that is.  Jealous...envious..._bitter_..."

"Am _not_!" Ron stated hotly as his face flooded red. 

"Oh, but you _are_, Weasley.  _I_ should know.  _I_ was the one, after all, who was _forced_ to break into your _wretched_ excuse for a mind and determine just _what_, if any, knowledge you possess."  Snape looked smug and then stated, "Unsurprisingly, I found nothing."

"Severus," Dumbledore said firmly.  Harry felt a reassuring hand on his shoulder and then realised it'd been there ever since Dumbledore had come in.  "Are you telling me you used the Legilimens spell to see into Mister Weasley's mind here?"

Snape looked a tad discomfited at this question as Harry heard Ron mumble, "You did wha...?" Ron's face had drained so drastically of all color that it was now almost as pale as the white oxford shirt he wore beneath his robes. 

"Your _mind_, Weasley," Snape said acidly.   "The thing most creatures possessing intelligence have atop their shoulders.  I've never _seen_ a mind so embroiled with such _bitter_ envy—"

"Severus, I do not believe you are one to talk," Dumbledore said quite forcefully as he moved from Harry's side, to where Snape stood, looking actually quite wounded at that statement.    "Severus, I am sorry, but this is a matter which—"

Snape looked ill.  "But, _sir_—you don't—_Weasley_—he said all that out _there_—in front of _everyone_!  _They all heard _and who _knows_ what they'll think now!"   Snape looked wildly back at Ron and Ginny and then quickly conjured a privacy bubble around both Dumbledore and himself.  

Harry could see Snape's face perfectly within the opalescent sphere and he clearly saw Snape's mouth form the words, "I _had_ to determine what he knew—_this_ could be a chance to regain favour!"   The rest of Snape's words were spoken too rapidly for Harry to make out. 

"Is it true?"

Harry turned then to see Ginny standing in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes wide. 

"Was what Ron said concerning the...the prophecy true?  Is that why they're...?  Why you're...?"   She was gesturing about the room but her eyes never left Harry's.  "Was it?"

Harry's mouth seemed to be unable to move; the voice in his head wanted to shout out and deny it straight away.

"Not entirely," Hermione said, speaking up when Harry didn't.  "It's...a _possible_ interpretation and...well, it _could_ be true given what's known about it.   Voldemort might believe it.   But it's certainly one of the more dangerous interpretations—Malfoy for instance, he'll be owling out straight away what he heard, just like Snape said, and because Ron is...well, _was_ Harry's best friend, they all might think it's true."

Ginny's mouth hung open and Harry saw her looking at him again with dumbfounded awe.  Her eyes swept over his face, catching a moment upon his scar before looking back at Hermione. 

Hermione just nodded.  "There are only a few reasons that could make Voldemort want to go after Harry more and, as it is, he's only been biding his time in hopes of learning more about the prophecy.  If this..."  Hermione's face paled then and she looked at Harry.  "I suppose...oh, I suppose it's more a _when_...oh, _Harry_!"  

Hermione flung her arms around Harry and sobbed once into his chest.  "Oh, I'm so _stupid_!  I _should_ have silenced Ron!  I...I was worried you'd say something you'd regret and—"   She hiccoughed and sniffed.  "I...I _should_ have stopped _him_!  It's _my_ fault—I should have—"

"It _can't_ be that bad, c-can it?" Ginny asked shakily as she looked back at the ill-faced Ron across the room. 

Harry felt Hermione taking shuddering breaths to calm herself as he held her tightly to him.  The warmth of her pressed against him seemed to be banishing all the numbness from his mind. 

"Shh, Hermione," he said softly.  "It's definitely not _your_ fault."   Harry saw McGonagall over by Ron and speaking to him quietly.  "It might not be that bad," he said and, despite not explaining why, Ginny looked extremely relieved at this. 

It was Harry's thought now that Snape's use of Legilimency on Ron had to be something he could use with Voldemort.  Snape could tell Voldemort what he'd done and it would be seen as an attempt to gain the contents of the prophecy, which would obviously gain favour with Voldemort.   However, the fact that Snape verified Ron _didn't_ know and had merely _exaggerated_ on what little he did know might just cause Voldemort to dismiss Ron's outburst entirely.   As it was, Ron had irreversibly established himself as someone who might know the prophecy contents and Snape convincing Voldemort that Ron really knew nothing, was Ron's only chance at not becoming a prime target himself. 

A loud _pop!_ announced the disappearance of the privacy bubble ensconcing Dumbledore and Snape and, in no time, Snape was striding quickly towards the door with a barely a glance at Harry or anyone else.  

At the sound of the door slamming shut, Professor Dumbledore exchanged a look with Harry.   _Snape was going to contact Voldemort.   _This was clear to Harry in the moment his eyes met Dumbledore's.  Snape was going to try to do damage control with Ron's outburst and regain favour for himself at the same time. 

"Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly, "might I have a word with Mister Weasley for a moment?  It might be a wise idea for you to return to the head table for the remainder of dinner.  Someone ought to keep an eye on the students."  McGonagall nodded and Dumbledore drew an arm around Ron and guided him over to the far side of the room near the tall hearth. 

As McGonagall headed towards the door to leave, she muttered, "How the lot of you manage to always make things so exciting around here, I'll never know."   After she left, Harry, Hermione and Ginny were left standing, alone in a corner. 

Ginny kept looking forlornly at Harry and Hermione, who still stood with arms about each other's waists.  It looked to Harry like Ginny desperately wished to know more about what was going on and the prophecy as a whole but was too reluctant to ask. 

"It's better if you don't know, Gin," Harry said quietly in answer to her unspoken thoughts.  "It's better if it's _known_ that you don't know." 

Ginny just nodded and looked down at her feet. 

Professor Dumbledore then led Ron over towards them and said, "Virginia, I wonder if you might accompany Ronald to see Madame Pomfrey?"

Ginny nodded, nonplussed. 

Dumbledore nodded once, saying, "Good, good.  I'm sure he would appreciate the company." 

Harry was puzzled and a quick look at Hermione's furrowed brow proved she was also baffled at the request.   Ron shuffled past them, ears red and determinedly looking straight ahead at the door and nowhere else, until both he and Ginny had left.  Both Hermione's and Harry's heads swivelled from watching Ron and Ginny exit, to then look questioningly at Dumbledore.

"Oh, no," Dumbledore said with a small smile and a shake of his head.  "Do not look to me for explanations.  It is not my place to say."

Harry wanted answers.  "But—"

Dumbledore forestalled Harry with a raised hand.  "I'm quite sure you do want answers, Harry.  I even think you're entitled to them.  However, I am afraid you will have to wait.  There is an explanation for Ronald's behavior beyond the obvious feelings fuelling him, but it is Ronald's place to tell you and his alone."

"Why did you send him off to the hospital wing, Professor?" Hermione asked in a new attempt to get an explanation. 

"Ah, well, for one, I hope he can find some peace and quiet there to gather his thoughts and then take the advice I just gave him.  He's been put under a tremendous amount of stress this year, I'm afraid."

Harry's jaw dropped.  "You--!  You're..._you're_ _defending_ _him_?  Professor!" Harry said as his voice rose sharply.   "How—how _could_ you?"

"Harry—"

"He's been a _rotten_ friend most of the year and merely _tolerant_ of Hermione at the best of times!"

"Harry—"

"He's treats Hermione like some piece of _furniture_ he's claimed and can't understand that she's a person with her own feelings and mind—a _brilliant_ mind at that!"

"Harry—"

Harry's voice only grew louder to keep speaking over Dumbledore.  "He's _constantly_ had the both of us on edge, never knowing when he's going to blow his top next, and we've _tried_ to be considerate of his feelings—it may not have worked out but at least _we've_ tried to remain friends—"

"Harry!"

"—Ron's done everything but ask me to choose outright between him and Hermione!  And you know what?  _I know who I'd choose_!" 

Harry's mouth snapped shut after he yelled the last words and he now he remembered numerous things he'd have liked to shout back when they were at dinner.  Yelling.  In the Great Hall.  The _packed_ full Great Hall. 

"Oh, _hell_," Harry muttered as he sunk into the nearest chair and cradled his head in his hands. 

What was he going to do?  Snape might be able to head off Voldemort, but that wouldn't stop all the students from believing Ron's words.  That wouldn't deter the press from thinking Ron's outburst made a great story.  

"Harry?" Dumbledore said yet again.

He looked up.  Hermione stood between Harry and Dumbledore and looked ready to go off on a rant of her own just like Harry's if Dumbledore offered up some speech on tolerance and teenage angst.

"Hermione," Dumbledore said as he gestured to the table behind Harry.  "Let's all have a seat.  I don't mean to tell you that Ronald's actions haven't been above reproach.  Oh, no.  I only wish to point out that, while I know there are external factors influencing him, I also know neither of you know about them.  And really, Ronald need not explain his actions to me as much as he needs to explain himself to the both of you.   My advice to him has been and is that he explains his situation to the both of you completely.  Hopefully, he can find a way do so."

Harry wasn't happy at any of this and his mounting fears concerning the public fallout with Ron's outburst were making him not at _all_ willing to hear any excuses for Ron.  "Whatever," he snapped.  "You assume I still care enough to forgive him.  Right now I'm more worried about the damage control.  Snape went to Voldemort, right?"

Dumbledore, Harry could see, was pained by Harry's persisting resentment towards Ron.  _But what does he expect?   Not everything's forgivable, _Harry thought to himself. 

Pulling out his gold pocket watch, Dumbledore pressed the fob and surveyed the face.  "Well," he said snapping the watch shut, "I expect Alastor to be along shortly." 

"But what about what happened out there?" Hermione persisted.  "What are people saying?  Shouldn't something be done?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled over his half-moon glasses and he said, "Well, it's my experience that truth may often find shelter amid rumours.  Ah, here's Alastor now."

Moody had flung open the side door to the antechamber and paused in the open doorway, magical eye swivelling about wildly, before he gimped on into the room and sent the door flying shut behind him.      

"What's going on?"  Moody growled at once.  "Passed Snape in the tunnel up here.  He only said summat about all Weasleys needing their mouths hexed off.  Wasn't those twins again, was it?  I'll give 'em a reason to keep their gobs shut if it was..."

"Come have a seat, Alastor," Dumbledore said with a smile.  "I'll fill you in on all of it.  Remus is busy tonight and, as you saw, Severus has left for the evening.  All we are waiting for is—" the door from the Great Hall opened and in walked Professor McGonagall, "—ah, and here she is."

"Albus—the rumour mill has the most _outlandish_ things flying about out there!  Every other word out of their mouths is 'prophecy' and Potter's name!" 

Harry dropped his head to the table with a _thunk_. 

"Come and have a seat, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said and Harry could _hear_ the man twinkling.  "Well, this is our gathering for the evening.  Don't mind Harry over there."  Harry took the hint and lifted his head reluctantly from the cool wood of the table.  "I had hoped to have both Ronald and Virginia present to hear the news about their brother Percy; however, I'm afraid that plan has been abandoned."

With painful detail, Dumbledore related the spectacular events of the evening to Moody and then concluded, "I do believe that, however unfortunate the exchange between such good friends, the event may actually be used to our favour."

Harry turned to gape at Dumbledore.

"First off, I have need to inform you all that the over the past few weeks' proceedings in London, it became impossible for me to continue maintaining silence with regard to my connection with the prophecy.  It was brought up as part of Percy's testimony as it had been his assignment to clean up after the incident last June.  Percy was...rather like a caged and cornered animal while under interrogation.   He very much wanted to lash out and did so by making sure that every single member of the Wizengamot knew _I_ had obstructed his attempt to recreate a recording of that prophecy."

"Was he found guilty?" Harry asked at once.  He didn't care of _what_ Percy had been found guilty; just as long as there was _some_thing. 

"Was he really under Imperius, Albus?" McGonagall followed immediately.

Moody added, "He's guilty enough, I tell yeh."

Dumbledore just sighed.  "It's quite complicated."

"Albus..." Moody said warningly.  Harry had the very distinct impression Moody would go after Percy himself if he thought justice had not been served.  Harry felt he might like to join him.

"First, I should explain that before we conducted any of the investigations and ruled on any cases, we made the decision that no person who claimed Imperius could thereafter work for the Ministry.  Until we have the means to determine the validity of a claim of the Imperius curse, the Wizengamot felt it was in the public's best interest to ensure these people were at least no longer allowed to remain in positions of power." 

"Well, that sounds reasonable," McGonagall seemed to concede hesitantly. 

Moody snorted.  "Reasonable!  Forgive me if I start to get leery when the Ministry acts _reasonably_.  It makes me right uncomfortable.  Next thing you know they'll be making sense and helping...no offense, Albus, of course."

Dumbledore nodded with a smile.  "None taken, dear friend.  I'll tell you though, that wasn't the only bit of reason we all came to agree upon.  The wisest move I made, I believe, was to close the doors to our chambers and insist no one left until we worked through everything.  It ensured there was no possibility of outside influences.  The only objections made to the ruling on those claiming Imperius was the fear that it would cause a great deal of job loss and turnover. 

"When Bradford Bobbington brought up the scenario that, as a member of the Wizengamot, _he_ might be targeted with the curse to affect various outcomes in investigations and trials, I took the opportunity to suggest we remain in closed sessions until all proceedings were finalized to ensure no one was exposed to undue influences.   Little objection could thereafter be raised."  Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle now and leaned over towards Harry and whispered, "Every now and then, I even surprise myself."

Harry wasn't all that amused.  "How is this supposed to help solve the problem of Ron's little announcement?"

Dumbledore paused here and laced his fingers together upon the table before him.  His expression grew serious and he paused a long moment before he said, "Over the past two and half weeks I have been working to establish the best possible foundation for Ministry rule that I hope shall see us through this war.  In many ways, I see it as my legacy to my years of service to the Wizengamot and our government.  I've done my best to protect our government from easy infiltration by Lord Voldemort and his servants.  I've done my best to ensure we shall have a leader in place that will maintain resistance and boost morale of the people.  I believe the time is nearing where I will not be able to continue my service to the Wizengamot and I have ordered many things to ensure the integrity of the council remains long after I am no longer the Chief Warlock." 

Dumbledore's eyes locked with Harry's and Harry had to ask, "You didn't _tell_ them all the prophecy did you?" 

Their eyes remained locked a moment before Dumbledore answered, "I promised you I would not divulge the secret contents of the prophecy, Harry, and I mean to keep my word on that.  However," and here, Harry felt distinct trepidation, "I believe the abbreviated portion of the beginning of the prophecy which is already known by the greater Order, Voldemort, and Voldemort's servants, is a different story.  Through those who knew this portion since the first fall of Voldemort, rumours were spread that weaved in and out of the tales of the Boy Who Lived."

"So you told them." Harry's voice felt hollow.  His _insides_ felt hollow. 

Dumbledore nodded once.  "Percy made public the fact that I had been the witness to this prophecy, which the majority of the folks on the Wizengamot, had previously believed was merely a fable; a myth or legend of a prophecy foretelling your story as a child that had sprung up to embellish an already fantastic tale.  After this exposure, I felt I had little choice but to tell them what so many others already knew.  It was the best justification for my previous silence and it served one other very important aim of mine." 

Harry didn't want to hear this.  His ears were ringing and he didn't want to be here any longer.  "I--I don't want to know," he said, shaking his head and pushing back from the table. 

Dumbledore bowed his head and peered over his silver half-moon glasses.  "Harry..."

It was one thing, Harry thought, to have Voldemort and his Death Eaters think Harry was 'one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord'; it meant they would fear him just a bit.  It was yet another thing to have the Order knowing this; it meant they respected him when they would otherwise consider him a mere child.  But everyone else?  What would it mean for how everyone else would see him?  He'd never even be just Harry Potter anymore.  Even the Boy Who Lived title was past tense at this point.  He almost wished to return to the time when they all thought him mad and a silly child desperate for attention; at least then..._then_ they weren't watching him...watching and waiting...  

"Why?" he asked plaintively as he stared at the back of his hands. 

"They need to know how important you are, Harry.  There may come a time when I am no longer here to assert this truth and you may have need of the respect that that truth affords you.  As it is, you benefit now from my reputation and the freedoms I can secure for you, Harry."  Dumbledore sighed audibly and looked around the table at each of them.  "I mean what I say when I tell you I feel I have assembled my legacy.   So many find peace in thinking that so long as I remain around and strong, that Lord Voldemort cannot prevail.  They find security in calling me 'The Only One He Fears'.  I cannot be the one and only one on whom they pin their hopes, Harry.  Especially not, when in truth, _you_ are the one who holds our hopes."

"Fine," Harry said sharply.  "It's too late now anyway, isn't it?  How is this supposed to help?" 

Dumbledore was looking intently at Harry now, unperturbed by Harry's irritation at what he felt was meddling and borderline manipulation.  "I spent a great many breaths singing your praises, Harry.  It is, after all, a very easy thing to do."

"Great," Harry muttered, earning a light nudge from Hermione's nearby foot. 

Dumbledore was undeterred.  "For all intents and purposes, they see you as my apprentice, Harry.  They see you as the one who will succeed me when I move on."

"Well, that was a bit stupid," Harry said crossly.  Hermione's foot found his again and this time, the nudge wasn't so light.  "Seeing as I'm _not_ your apprentice and I can't do _half_ of all you can." 

Dumbledore merely twinkled. 

"It's not funny!" Harry protested.  "They think I'm something I'm not!  I've met with you a few hours a week for just a few months--I didn't even know you're some famous blood alchemist until _Snape_ told me!  I don't know a _fraction_ of all that you do--it's--I--"  Harry snapped his mouth shut yet again as he was quite aware he was acting childish with his ranting.  "Let's just move on.  What else is there?"

Dumbledore acted unperturbed by Harry's outburst.  "Well, I expect that since the members of the Wizengamot are finally free to leave London and the Ministry, that, the portion of the prophecy revealed to them will soon be found in the Daily Prophet.  Now, whether it eclipses all the other press releases I sent out this afternoon concerning our investigations, I have no idea.  But I am quite sure that Ronald's outburst will appear to be very much what it was-- a jest based on the portion he knew--the portion everyone else will also know.   This will be much clearer when the news becomes public.  It should also help Severus in his attempt to return and regain favour this evening with Voldemort."

Moody, who was wiping his chin after taking a swig from his hip flask, asked, "So you think Weasley's slip will merely appear to be an early leak of the Prophet's scoop from tomorrow?" 

"I do," Dumbledore said with conviction.

McGonagall seemed wholly relieved that a potential catastrophe was averted, while Moody still seemed to be considering it as he said, "I'd feel much better if Weasley wasn't now known to be on the outs with Potter here.  He's a weak link then; a very _exploitable_ weak link.  Maybe he ought to be monitored..."

"Oh, Alastor!" McGonagall said with exasperation.  "Honestly--you talk like a spat between friends portends betrayal on the grandest scale!  Albus--do go on--we now understand what you meant about this incident being well timed.   Go _on_."  She shot Moody a glowering look which Moody only acknowledged by fixing his magical eye upon her. 

Dumbledore stroked his long silver beard and said, "Well, I've also told Professor Snape he might inform Lord Voldemort that the _rest_ of the contents of the prophecy are being protected by use of the Fidelius Charm with me as the Secret Keeper."

"But you're already the Secret Keeper for the Order's Headquarters," Harry interjected.  "I thought you told me once it wasn't certain if one person could be the Secret Keeper for two secrets?" 

Dumbledore nodded.  "I did, Harry.  However, since that time when your parents used it, I have done some of my own research and I do now feel entirely confident it will work.   With your agreement, Harry, I can complete the charm that will lock the secret within my soul."

"Didn't ask for my agreement earlier," Harry muttered.  This time, he was smart enough to move his foot out of the way before Hermione's could find his.  "How does that work?  Will you have to tell each of us again so that we still know?"

Dumbledore shook his head.  "No, no—the charm cannot take away knowledge.  To you who already know—it is not a secret and so, what you already know, cannot be kept from you.  Performing the spell to create a Secret Keeper merely locks the secret away from being spread to anyone else that doesn't know it—unless of course the Secret Keeper divulges the secret.   I believe if Lord Voldemort understands this, then he will not bother to try to gain the knowledge through Mister Weasley or anyone else.  The only path to the prophecy will be through me." 

Quickly, Dumbledore moved the conversation on to the findings from his investigations with the Wizengamot. 

"Percy, as I had wished to personally inform both Virginia and Ronald, was indeed found guilty of crimes that have resulted in a prison term of five months and a steep fine.  When that was decided last night and I had to inform Molly and Arthur, I'm sure you can all imagine that Molly took it rather hard.  They actually have Penelope staying with them at this time and I think Arthur is quite grateful for the help in calming Molly."  With a heavy sigh, Dumbledore added, "I shall not be surprised if I receive a Howler from her by the time her Calming Draughts wear off." 

"What were the charges against him, Albus?" McGonagall asked.

"We found enough evidence to convict on failure to adhere to Ministry protocol, trespassing into restricted archives, and conspiracy to commit treason.  Do you recall that the Ministry had once put forth a call for increased research with regards to the Imperius Curse?  Cornelius claimed it was in order to better understand how one could prove one was cursed." 

Moody, McGonagall, Harry and Hermione all nodded, vaguely recalling this from summer. 

"Well, it seems Percy was the one person Cornelius assigned to gathering any reports or suggestions for research on this subject.  Percy admitted that he'd agreed to forward these to who he _thought_ was Edward Planesse.  According to Percy, Planesse claimed to have a passing interest in the curse and had offered to go over them in detail and write Percy's report when the time came.  In return for this help, Percy agreed to bypass Ministry protocol for removing records from archives to aid Planesse in his investigation of Lucius Malfoy.  As you might now guess--all records pertaining to either any recent research on the Imperius Curse as well as all records documenting the transactions performed by Lucius Malfoy while he was employed at the Ministry, are now long gone."

Moody cursed at this and Hermione looked scandalised that such valuable research and information was now gone.  McGonagall looked like she severely wished she could dock house points by the hundreds to punish Percy, and Dumbledore merely looked tired. 

Dumbledore continued, "Yes, as the charges for obstructing research were levelled, that would have been when Percy decided to let loose with telling everyone how _I'd_ refused to cooperate with his recreation of lost prophecies.  But either way, that brings me to the other point of his conspiring to commit treason--he had made an agreement with Planesse to maintain an extra copy of this one recording in exchange for Percy sharing credit in uncovering what Planesse promised was a huge operation led by Malfoy."

"Which is likely the truth of it!" Moody said angrily.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded.  "But there is no proof now and, of course, Planesse's impostor was never really working to _uncover_ facts as he was looking to cover them up."

Moody was intermittently growling and cursing. 

"Was he even under Imperius, do we know?" Hermione asked.

Dumbledore smiled thinly.  "I am afraid we cannot be sure.  It's impossible to rule out, even under Veritaserum." 

McGonagall drummed her fingers upon the table and asked, "What about your other investigations, Albus?"

"Yes," Hermione said leaning forward with interest.  "Did you uncover who was impersonating Planesse?  What about Minister Fudge?  Oh!  How is Madame Bones doing as Minister?"

Dumbledore beamed at her enthusiasm.  "First--I'm afraid we haven't a clue as to who'd been impersonating Edward Planesse.  I suspect if we do find out who it was, it will be through connection not associated with a Ministry investigation.  We consider ourselves very fortunate that the real Edward remained as a ghost to tell us what really happened.  If he hadn't, Percy might have been left to take a much larger chunk of the blame." 

For a few moments, Harry wasn't sure that made him feel better or worse.

"Secondly, it seems that our former minister was aware of nearly _all_ of Percy's behaviour.  Cornelius, as it should not surprise you, was asked by Planesse to gather all the books from Malfoy's Gringotts vault; this, we already knew.  Percy testified that Planesse had suggested the case against Malfoy would be a blockbuster if he could access all of Malfoy's private ledgers to trace the embezzlement of millions of galleons.  While the accusations of embezzlement are likely true, we have no proof except the fact that all records are missing.  Fudge, along with Percy, was promised a cut of the credit for uncovering the Malfoy operation. 

"It has also come to light that Cornelius was trying to float the coffers by doing deals to sell confiscated Dark Artefacts.  According to a few witnesses, it was a practice Malfoy had employed.  He called it selling to collectors who were merely interested in the items for their 'historic and artistic' value." 

Moody nearly fell off his chair at this because he jumped up so fast.  "_Bloody conniving snake!_" he growled furiously. 

McGonagall looked at him reproachfully and said, "_Merlin_, Alastor--pull yourself together!  This is a school and--oh, just take a nip of whatever is in your hipflask and settle yourself down!  _Honestly_!" 

Harry couldn't help raising an amused eyebrow at this exchange.

Moody continued to grumble as he sat back down.  "_No good, elitist, dark wizard disgrace_--one guess who his favorite _collector_ was!!!"

Dumbledore continued to relate details of various other findings that merely confirmed Fudge's modus operandi was to basically claim credit for everything positive that had ever happened and to distance himself entirely from all things negative. 

"Ah, and as to our new Minister, I believe that, although she has much ground to make up, she will do a fine job.  Amelia is a very capable witch and has the respect of nearly everyone who knows her.  I might also relate the good news that, as some of her first acts as Minister, she's authorised an envoy to the Giants of Middle Europe.  I used Fawkes this afternoon to send a message to Hagrid to inform him that our offers of friendship and alliance with any and all giants is now backed by the Ministry and increased in scope.  I received a reply back from him--" Dumbledore smiled broadly here, "--he says their guide informed them they are currently about a week away from the colony of giants.  Oh, and he also says his brother seems to have a way with the dragons in the camp where their guide lives and that he's very well aware that he is not allowed to return with a dragon--not even a baby."

Harry smiled at this and felt a pang of regret at not having been able to see Hagrid since autumn. 

"Also," Dumbledore continued, "Amelia repealed several decrees that had stripped rights and freedoms from various half-breeds and authorised an increase in funding for Werewolf Support Services that will bring in the volunteer work that Remus has been coordinating with St. Mungo's.  One of her main pushes to counter Voldemort is to demonstrate to those formerly denied equal status in the wizarding community that she intends to help them and return their rights."

"Oh!" Hermione said breathlessly.  "What about the Elves?  Will she free them, do you think?"  It was now Harry's turn to nudge her foot with his.  Moody had both eyes focused upon Hermione as if he'd never quite seen anything like her.  Even Harry had to admit, when it came to house-elves, Hermione had a bit of a madness.  "What?" she asked Harry reaching down to rub her foot distractedly.  "You agree with me, don't you?"

Harry sighed and refused to look at Moody as he whispered, "Hermione, let's talk about that later."  This made Hermione almost seem to pout but Harry really didn't want to see her get laughed at by Moody, McGonagall or Dumbledore because of her obsession with house-elves.  _Thank god Snape isn't here_, he thought with relief. 

"Well," Dumbledore said, stretching his long arms before him, "are there any other questions any of you have?"

Harry threw a quick look at Hermione, hoping she'd still remain quiet about the house-elves.   "I have a question, Professor," he said.  He turned to McGonagall then, "Actually, to you, Professor McGonagall.  I, er, just happened to be walking by the staff room this weekend, before everyone else returned.  I overheard you handing out lists of students to the heads of the houses."  Harry slowed in his speech as he saw McGonagall begin to frown.  "I, er, sort of heard you mention that some students needed to be watched and I also heard Professor Sprout comment upon Slytherin losing numerous students."  He hazarded a quick glance around the table and continued, "We've also noticed some of the students who haven't returned..."

McGonagall looked to Dumbledore as she explained, "We've had about two dozen students not return this term."  She turned sharply to Harry then, saying, "And it's not necessarily uncommon--many students in sixth and seventh years who've reached seventeen decide they've had enough schooling."  She pulled herself up tall and then conceded, "However, it does seem that this year has more than the usual number of students terminating their education."

"But _why_?" Harry asked, clearly irritating McGonagall with his inquiries into what she saw as school matters.  "Why would they leave without finishing?"

"Some students simply do not need the continued education, Potter," McGonagall answered.  "They certainly do not need to give _me_ a reason.  We try to watch other students who we think may be contemplating ending their education.  It's part of our responsibilities as your teachers to offer guidance and advice no matter a student's intended career." 

But Harry recalled Tracey Davis had said she wanted to be an Auror.  You certainly needed to continue studying for NEWTs to do that, he thought. 

Hermione gave Harry a look, telling him he obviously wasn't getting anywhere, and asked, "Professor Dumbledore?  Er, I was wondering...see, Harry suggested I ask..."

"What?"

Hermione nudged him with her shoulder, ignoring him as she went on.  "I was wondering if I might be able to speak with the Sorting Hat some time?"

Dumbledore beamed at this.  "A sage counsel if ever there was one.  Yes, yes, not the best of conversationalists; tends to be a bit of a know-it-all, really.  But, the Hat's wisdom spans the age of this castle and beyond.  It sees much that, we as wizards tend to overlook.  Yes, Hermione, I would be delighted to have you stop by and speak with the Hat."

Hermione beamed.  "Perhaps next weekend, Professor?"

While Hermione was speaking to Dumbledore, Harry heard Moody ask McGonagall, "You want to get me a copy of the students you've lost this term?"  Harry turned at this and saw Moody's magical eye whirl around towards him.  "Just thinking it might be wise to know who's where.  I don't think Potter was asking 'cuz he wondered about their education."   Harry turned then and avoided letting McGonagall see him smirk. 

As Harry waited for Hermione to gather her things for them to leave, Dumbledore put a hand on his shoulder and asked, "Harry?  Are you all right with what tomorrow's paper may bring?"

Harry felt a weight settle upon his shoulders and sighed.  How was he supposed to live up to being considered Albus Dumbledore's apprentice?  He wasn't.  He was just another sixth year student at Hogwarts who happened to do well at Defense and who'd had a few private lessons with the greatest wizard of the age.  He wasn't anyone's apprentice by any stretch of the imagination and he certainly wasn't _anything_ like Dumbledore. 

"They'll all think I'm something I'm not," he mumbled. 

Dumbledore squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.  "That may be, Harry.  But I happen to know you're much _more_ than that."  He paused then to draw out his silver tin of sweets and, after Harry declined by shaking his head, Dumbledore popped a mint into his mouth.  "You know, Harry," he said as he pocketed the tin again, "I have considered, at times, asking you if you might prefer to drop your formal studies in favour of more specialized and personalized training--"

"I might," Harry answered at once. 

Dumbledore nodded.  "That doesn't surprise me.  However...I think there's much to be said for you remaining a student here--besides being able to play quidditch, I mean.  I think it's also very important that you remain amongst the other students.  It's much more difficult for people to build you up in their minds if you're in the same classes as them and eating in the same Great Hall."

"But how does that help me learn anything?"

"You're not learning now?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry looked down at the ground.  "Well, yes, but..."  _Dumbledore was a busy man_, Harry thought to himself.  _He's busy being the Chief Warlock, appointing ministers and, in his spare time, running a school.  He's already giving several hours out of his spare time to help the Order and me.  What more can I expect?_       

"Harry?" Dumbledore prompted softly, waiting until Harry looked up again.  His blue eyes shone over his glasses with an unfathomable emotion. 

The lack of twinkling was notable and Harry saw an unprecedented openness in those blue eyes.  He wondered what Dumbledore was thinking...  "Sir?" 

But before Harry could see anything in the eyes that were very rarely so unguarded, they flickered up to settle upon the infamous scar upon his head as Dumbledore said, "I should tell you, it is my plan that by summer, I expect to no longer be obliged to serve in the Wizengamot.  It's my hope that I will be able to work with you intensively at that time, if it is your wish." 

A very large part of Harry was immediately excited at this prospect and incredible opportunity.  However, another part, the same part that felt resentful that Dumbledore's eyes had remained focused upon the scar while speaking, caused Harry to reply, "Yeah, that might be all right.  If you can manage to work it into your schedule."

Harry turned to leave then with Hermione to head back up to Gryffindor Tower for the night and he never saw the distress his last comment had caused the headmaster.

Back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry had to fight the urge to snap at every person who stared at him as he crossed the room.  He didn't want anyone looking at him and whispering behind their hands like he knew they would and, without even wanting to linger to for a good night kiss, he mumbled, "I'm going up to bed."  He didn't even look back when Hermione called his name nor when he irritably replied, "I'm fine!"

He glared at everything and everyone as he trudged up the stone staircase and he nearly knocked over the person trying to exit the sixth-year dormitory as he pulled open the door to enter. 

"_Oof!_  Harry!" Ginny cried, rubbing her elbow which she'd smacked against the doorframe as she'd had to jump to the side to avoid him. 

"What?" he snapped, never pausing until he could throw his book bag onto the floor beside his bed.  He toed off his shoes and shrugged off his school robe as he sat on the edge of his bed.  "What are you doing in here anyway?" he asked Ginny crossly.  He snuck a quick look over at Ron's empty bed and then looked back to Ginny.  "Well?"

Ginny was glaring angrily back at Harry.  "Could you _be_ in a worse mood?"

"Probably," Harry muttered as he began unknotting his tie. 

"Well, then maybe you ought to wait until morning to read that.  Ron spent the past hour trying to tell you what he should've just explained months ago."

Harry then saw a folded over piece of parchment set atop his nightstand.  On the front, his name was written in Ron's untidy scrawl.  He hesitated before gingerly picking it up and turning it over as if inspecting it for some curse.

"I hexed it so no one but you could open it," Ginny informed him. 

Harry wasn't sure he wanted to ask what it was and kept staring at his name written across the front. 

Ginny sighed and crossed over to Harry's bed to sit beside him.  "I know you don't understand--I didn't even understand what all was going on.  But Ron told me tonight--after we left.  And he is _the biggest idiot there ever was_ for no other reason than because he never told anyone what was going on." 

Harry flipped the parchment back over onto his nightstand and said, "I don't know if I even care anymore.    I'm not really interested in hearing you try to excuse Ron's bad attitude."  He stood up then and walked over to his wardrobe where he pulled his jumper off and hung up his tie.  "Unless you care to tell me that's some massive apology for his behavior _and_ that there's a matching one by Hermione's bed--I don't care to even read it." 

Harry turned then and was about to reach for the parchment to tear it up when Ginny snatched it away. 

"Fine, then!  _Be an arse!_  But everyone stood by _you_ last year when _you_ were having it rough!  _Everyone_ tolerated your _bad attitude_!  No one said forget it, you're no friend of mine just because _you_ got snippy and hurt people's feelings!"

Harry felt his blood begin to boil yet again.  "I _never_--"

"And _no_ one--_ever_ refused your apology for _you_ being such an insufferable prat last year!"

Harry snapped his mouth shut.  "Is it an apology?" he asked quietly as he eyed the parchment in her hands. 

Ginny just calmly placed the note on Harry's pillow and then stepped back.  She walked towards the door to leave and paused only to look back and say, "There's only one way to find out now, isn't there?"

Harry put off even touching the note until he was dressed for bed and under the covers.  He realized that Ginny had assumed he had still been angry with Ron when he'd stormed into the dormitory. But the truth was, Harry was irritated with just about everyone.

He was irritated with Dumbledore for sure.  The man had used his knowledge of a portion of the prophecy--no matter how well known it already was--for his own political manoeuvring and here he was, building Harry up to be some great hero for everyone to look up to and worship. 

Of _course_ Dumbledore would want to devote some time over the summer to training Harry.  He wouldn't want his little protégé--_his legacy_--to embarrass him, now would he?  

Harry was a perfect little protégé.  He came already equipped with his own legend as the Boy Who Lived, a built in adversary in Voldemort and he had a bloody scar for everyone to stare at that would always mark him for who he was.  Harry'd give up all the novelty of having skills as a Metamorphmagus if he could just obliterate that scar upon his head.  What good was being able to change how he looked, only to still bear a lightening bolt scar upon his head that everyone recognised anyway?  It was _useless_ and a bloody damned annoying reminder of just who everyone thought he should be. 

_If only getting people to stare at my scar was good enough to perform Legilimency on them_, he thought bitterly.  But then, as he continued to flip over the parchment in his hands, he wondered_, why can't I use my scar as my projection?  Everyone--even the ones who are too polite to stare at it openly--want to get a good look at it...  If they're given the image of my scar, then can simultaneously be looking into my eyes and 'looking' at the scar!  They'll be thinking about me and then I can finally see the truth of how people think of me!_ 

Harry felt a rush of excitement.  It was perfect!  It ended his search for a projection _and_ gave him a way to see how others truly saw him!

He was so elated at his discovery of a projection idea that he immediately opened the note in his hands and eagerly began to read. 

_Harry,_

_Everyone tells me I ought to just tell you guys this and get it over with.  Dumbledore told me I ought to have told you while we were all still at the Celebration.  I could tell he was disappointed tonight that I still hadn't told you._  _Or her_. 

Harry frowned and reread the first part twice.  Given how Ron seemed completely unable to even mention Hermione by name, Harry had half a mind to bin the letter right there.  But he read on.

_I told Ginny tonight and she's threatening me at wand point with some new hex she looked up if I don't write you now.  I hate this!  You don't understand and I don't want to make you understand--it's like I'm begging.  I'm NOT pathetic!  _

_Okay, she's not giving me a choice.  Remember back at the Department of Mysteries? That was stupid.  Of course you remember.  Unfortunately, I do too and that's really the whole problem.  _

_You see, the thing with the tentacles that attacked me was a brain with thought tendrils or something coming from it.  When those things latched on to me, they left scars.   They left scars on my arms where they touched me and they left, Dumbledore calls them 'impressions', in my brain.  _

_At first, it just meant I kept replaying everything that happened that night over and over in my mind.  They gave me this stuff that was supposed to help me control it and said it would get better.   The stuff helped--tasted nasty like one of Fred and George's potions gone wrong--but it worked.  _

_Anyway, I got home and didn't think I'd need it anymore and for a while, I didn't.  It seemed fine.  I kept remembering things, sure, but Mum said that was to be expected when kids got themselves mixed up in grown up business.   It was worse when I tried to think of you or...her.  I realise that now.  I didn't then--I just thought it was something I'd get over.  _

_I don't know if **Hermione**--_the name was written with heavy strokes--_told you what happened that night after the rest of us were portkeyed back from the Ministry.  I reckon she did.  She tells you everything, I'm sure.  I'd been hit with an Inebriation Jinx--Lucius Malfoy's idea of showing me a free and easy spell to get drunk, that bastard.  It made me act as if I were pissed.  It made me do things I would NEVER have done.  EVER.  It made me say some really stupid and ridiculous stuff to Hermione that night.  Basically, I said rubbish that I wish I could forget had ever, EVER happened.  But I can't.  The brain's thoughts were still--'recording' is what Dumbledore called it.  _

_The potion they gave me initially made the thoughts stop 'recording' stuff and then I had to keep taking it to make sure the thoughts weren't continually replaying over and over in my head.  Like I said, I thought I would be fine.  I thought it just needed time.  Every time anyone ever brought up her name, it made me replay that awful, stupid scene over and over.  I couldn't even write to her over the summer.  _

_And then I saw you guys on your birthday.  It was worse in person and, I didn't know it then, but there were also thoughts of you that would replay when I see you.  You were there when the blasted brain latched on to me and, with you, I keep replaying it over how you looked at me like I was an idiot.  Well, I guess I was--summoning over a brain like it was a quaffle or something.  But it was that damn spell Malfoy put on me!  Yeah, so you gave me this look like you couldn't believe what I was doing and, well, I know you tried to help, but then you left.  You left!  I thought I was about to die from being suffocated by a bloody brain and you left me there!  Okay, I know, I know-- there were Death Eaters after us.  But in my mind when it replays, I only see you, leaving and running out the door when I thought you'd help me.  _

_Now I feel like the world's biggest moron.  Here I am sniffing like a five year old who dropped his sugar quill into the cauldron.  I know all these things are stupid.  I know you didn't just leave because you didn't care if a hungry brain ate me for dinner.  _

_But I can't help it.  It replays every effing time I see you.  Or her.  I see you--it replays you leaving me and me wondering why you're leaving me.  I see her and I replay--well, something I am sure she would never ever like to think about again.  _

_Dumbledore said at the Celebration that it's too late for the potions to help.  The thoughts of the recordings have already made 'impressions' in my real brain.  He told me it was now like learning to fight a Boggart; that'd I have to figure out how to stop the thoughts from taking over my mind.  He said if I don't learn how to fight it, it would only get worse.  _

_I obviously haven't figured it out yet.  _

_Ginny says she'll help me now that she knows how bad it is.  But, well, I told her she'd better wait because if you and Hermione don't want to ever have anything to do with me--and I guess I know I shouldn't blame you if you don't--then there's no point.  _

_So, I guess that's it.  That's why I can't help myself from being an utter idiot whenever I see you two.  I'm sorry I got brassed off in the middle of Sirius' Celebration (Mum was livid!)  But I guess when I heard there was all this stuff you'd been keeping from me, it just made the whole stupid memory of you leaving me behind worse.  _

_I know, I'm pathetic.  (And didn't I just say I wasn't?)  I can't control my own thoughts and, unlike what you might think, my mouth is connected to my brain and so it says all sorts of stupid stuff that I really don't mean and that I know is awful and wrong.  _

_Ginny says I should tell you that I'm staying the night down here in the hospital wing.  Madame Pomfrey made me take a Calming Draught--tasted like lemon, not bad.  _

_I feel like asking you to forget everything I've ever said this past year and to just ignore any words that come out of my mouth.  These bloody thoughts are making me want to ask you to come find me so we can be friends again, but I know it's just these stupid thoughts.  They're annoying really.  You don't need to do anything for me and I know I shouldn't blame you if you never look at me again.  _

_Ron_

_PS- Ginny says I should explain why I'm writing to only you now.   Believe me--it wouldn't work if I tried to write her.  Not now.  I can write to you and just sound like a pathetic, blubbering fool, but if I were to write to her, then I'd want to yell, kick, scream and curse.   I may be stupid at times, but I'm fairly sure that won't make for a very good apology.  _

It only took Harry a minute to decide to get out of bed, throw on his invisibility cloak and sneak out the portrait hole. 

* * *

Note: There's a Yahoo Group for this fic. See my profile page for the link. Cheers!

* * *


	49. Chapter 52  Powers Neither Knows Not

**Chapter 52.  Powers Neither Know Not**

Harry paused just outside the doors to the hospital wing; he was suddenly struck by the fact that he had no clue what he was going to say.  He certainly still felt a great deal of anger towards Ron for his recent outbursts and it seemed that as Harry had slipped silently through the corridors under his cloak, the compassion he'd first felt for Ron's predicament had slipped back into yet more frustrated anger.  In fact, it almost seemed like he was now even _angrier_ for Ron's confession and for making Harry actually feel _bad_ for him when all Harry really wanted to do was thwack Ron about the head.

Why would Ron think he shouldn't—or _couldn't_ tell anyone what he was going through?  If he knew—_knew_—his actions were unreasonable then how could expect _not_ to brass off everyone around him?  Why had no one else who'd known about this told Harry? 

The letter Ron had written may not excuse his behavior but it began to explain it and an explanation was a good start towards understanding.  And right about now, _any_ understanding Harry could gain in regards to Ron was the only thing that was going to keep Harry's temper in check.

Harry deftly pushed open one of the double-doors to the hospital wing and slipped through the opening before slowly letting the door close behind him again. 

The hospital wing was darkened and a few torches flickered softly along the far wall.  Harry couldn't see anyone immediately but could hear a low murmur of voices coming from behind a curtain at the end of the row of beds. 

Silently, Harry crept beneath his cloak towards the sound of the one low, male voice that was now speaking. 

"This is a new formula I haf made." 

"What's in this one?" Ron's voice asked.  "I don't think the tinctures helped _at all_.  Plus, they reek and get my robes all sticky."

Harry stopped.  _Ron was talking with Vitkor Krum_.  Stealthily, Harry crept closer until he was peering through the crack in the curtains. 

Ron was there, sitting cross-legged in the middle of a bed and twisting the top off of a tall brown bottle.  Krum was standing with his back to Harry scratching the back of his neck as he spoke, "This is a draught.  I think it's best if you try something to treat the symptoms now."

Ron gasped and wheezed suddenly after taking a whiff of the bottle's contents.  "What _is_ that cack?!  I'm supposed to _drink_ that?"  He fumbled with screwing the cap back on as he held the bottle out at arm's length; far away from his face.  "No way!" he said, shaking his head and handing it back.

Krum took the bottle and set it on the bedside table that was between them. 

"It is based off of the Immotus Mixture we tried before," Krum said, disregarding Ron's comment. 

"It never reeked like that," Ron said as he sent a wary look at the offending bottle sitting near him. 

"I added more cannabis root.  That, along with the Glumbumble treacle, yes, makes for a rather..._strong smell_."  Krum actually sounded apologetic. 

Ron snorted at this but before he could retort, he and Krum both jumped at the sound of a door slamming behind them. 

"_It's Pomfrey_," Ron hissed, craning his neck towards the matron's office. 

Harry could hear the approaching sound of heels on the stone floor and had to leap out of the way as Krum hastened to leave Ron.  "Try that and tell me if it helps any, yes?"  Krum said over his shoulder to Ron. 

Ron just waved him away as the clicking heels approached from the other side of his bed.  "Go!" he said as he, grimacing, shoved the brown bottle beneath his pillow.

Harry held his breath as Krum slipped past him, just inches away.  He watched as Krum moved more swiftly and silently than Harry would have guessed possible, down the row of beds and out the doors of the hospital wing.

Harry turned back to spy on Ron as Madam Pomfrey's voice cut clearly into the sounds of Ron's shuffling about in his bed.  "You're still awake, I hear.  I thought you said you'd be falling asleep, no?" 

Harry saw Ron, now leaning back on his pillow awkwardly, pull a face and reply, "Er, I'm just a bit, er, I can't sleep as yet really..."

Pomfrey immediately set upon straightening the bunched up covers at the foot of Ron's bed as she said, "Well, I'll just set you up with some Dreamless Sleep then.  That will put you right to sleep.  Mind you, you're best to have plenty of rest and a clear head about you tomorrow."  She clucked her tongue then as went on to say, "Never should have let you talk me out of sending you to St. Mungo's for treatment.  I knew you'd have a right time of handling those scars.  Last time I ever consult a patient about their own treatment."  She fussed about some more before announcing, "I'll be right back with some Sleep." 

When Pomfrey returned a half-minute later, Ron protested he needed to use the toilet before drinking the potion and so managed to convince her to just leave it on the night table before she reluctantly left him for the night. 

Harry, while Ron had gone to the toilet, slipped around the curtain and settled himself—still draped in his cloak—in the chair beside the bed.  He waited until Ron returned, settled himself onto the bed and pulled out the brown bottle from Krum before yanking the cloak down from his head and asking, "Why is Krum making you potions?"

Ron, startled so badly he nearly dropped the bottle, sprang off the bed and gasped loudly before clutching at his chest. 

"_Merlin_, Harry!  Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?" Ron panted as he tried to catch his breath. 

Harry just pulled his cloak down lower, letting it pool in his lap, and ran a hand through his mussed hair.  "No," he said curtly.  "I'm here for explanations." At Ron's nonplussed expression, Harry explained, "The note you gave Ginny to give to me?  You did write it, didn't you?" Harry said exasperatedly. 

"Oh, right."  Ron looked relieved for a brief moment before a brilliant shade of red colored his face.  "You...er, read that, eh?" he asked in a high voice as she scratched behind his ear. 

Harry goggled at him.  "Er, _yeah_!" 

Ron laughed uncomfortably.  "Oh.  I, er, wasn't sure, you'd, er, want to read it."

"I didn't," Harry said coolly as he leaned back in his chair.  "Ginny made me.  It's the truth though, isn't it?  What you wrote?" 

Harry's need for Ron to have some _excuse_ for his abominable behavior was so overwhelming that Harry wasn't sure what he'd do if Ron failed to provide one.  In fact, Harry wasn't sure he even _wanted_ Ron to have an excuse.  Part of him quite wanted to be finally pushed over the edge and justified in expressing complete and total anger. 

Gingerly, Ron perched himself on the side of his bed and swung his long, gangly legs over and crossed them.  "Yeah," he said in barely a whisper. 

The brown bottle dropped into his lap and his shoulders seemed to hunch in on himself.   He looked poised to retreat within himself.  Harry was reminded of how Ron said he often experienced replays when he saw Harry or Hermione now.  The sudden shift to fragility surrounding Ron, eased Harry's anger back. 

"Is it...is that memory replaying now?" he asked tentatively; unsure how to broach the subject now since it was plainly obvious Ron was beyond embarrassed about it.

Ron, staring down unseeingly at some spot between them, just nodded. 

"Look at me," Harry said as he leaned forward; elbows on his knees.   He repeated himself when Ron couldn't comply. "Look at me.  I'm here now—look."

Reluctantly, Ron's eyes darted once in Harry's direction. 

"Look at me," Harry repeated; this time with yet more force.  In his mind, he was thinking he could hold Ron's thoughts to the here and now if he could just get him to make and hold eye contact. 

Harry dragged his chair forward and leaned forward, palms now resting on Ron's bed.  "Ron—_look_—at—me." 

Ron was vigorously biting down on the inside of his cheek and, out of the corner of his eye, his gaze slid over to rest on Harry. 

"I feel like a moron," Ron muttered.

"You look like one, too," Harry replied dryly. 

"Hey!" Ron said glaring at Harry.

Harry caught his gaze and before Ron could look away again, Harry reached out a hand and seized Ron's shoulder.  "Just—let me.  Let me...see, okay?" 

"Wha—what do you mean?" Ron asked warily, leaning back slightly. 

Harry sighed, searching into Ron's eyes.  "I want to see what you're seeing; to see what you're feeling.  I think I can do that if you look into my eyes.  I also think I can help keep you focused on the here and now if you'll let me try this."

Ron's brow creased with worry and Harry had to squeeze his shoulder to get him to regain eye contact. 

"Please," Harry pleaded.  "I need to understand why it is I shouldn't want to knock you 'round the head."

This argument seemed to work well for Ron and, forlornly, he met Harry's searching gaze full on. 

Harry saw clearly then for the first time in months that Ron's normally carefree look no longer remained.  It was replaced with an inner turmoil that writhed within his hazel eyes. 

_But why can't I see what he's thinking_, Harry wondered as he narrowed his own eyes in concentration. 

"Let me see," he said softly, almost to himself.  "_Let me in_."

Somehow, his words crumbled any resistance Ron had mustered and, with a rush, images and emotions flew at Harry. 

_There was Ron wrapped up in the feelers of a writhing brain...alone...an unravelling brain flying out of its tank towards him...Harry's own horrified face looking on just beyond it; unmoving in any effort to stop the brain in it's flight towards Ron...tentacles like rolls of film wrapping themselves—seizing, squeezing and seeking to consume—all around him and making his heart beat wildly with fear...his chest constricting and, as fear mounted in his heart, the sight of Harry looking on, stunned...and then the sight of Harry turning away and bolting...alone...laughter...anger...fear...constricting...the sight of Harry turning away again...alone...unimportant...angry...alone...Harry's face turning away...tentacles crawling, feeling and constricting...alone...again—Harry turning and bolting...alone...consuming...Neville's face, suddenly, looking between a retreating Harry and a struggling Ron...Neville leaving--choosing to follow Harry...alone...angry about being left behind...unimportant...alone...abandoned...alone...constricting...suffocating anger...alone..._

Harry pulled back to stop the images and shook his head to shake off the unnerving sensation of feelers wrapping about himself and the echoing sense of feeling alone and abandoned.   As Harry came back to himself, he saw Ron was still staring at him; unseeingly with his mouth agape and eyes wide. 

Harry could still see, like flashes from an out-of-sync film, the play of memories swimming about just beneath the surface of Ron's glazed over eyes. 

"Ron—_Ron_," Harry said forcefully as he shook Ron's shoulder. 

With a shudder, Ron snapped out of his trance, blinked and snapped his mouth closed.  Reflexively, he turned away from Harry.

"No—Ron look at me."

"I don't wanna," Ron said pushing Harry away.  He shuddered again and said, "That was worse than it usually is.  Usually it's just snippets," he muttered. 

"I know—I mean that makes sense," Harry said.  "I was trying to see it all.  I need to understand."  

After a few moments where Ron couldn't look up from his lap, Harry asked, "Why didn't you just _tell_ me?  And what did Pomfrey mean when she says she shouldn't have kept you from getting treated at St. Mungo's?  And what _is_ that stuff—" he jabbed a finger at the brown bottle in Ron's lap, "—and _why_ did Viktor Krum give that to you?" 

His anger returning, Harry stood up and paced in a small circle once before laughing shortly.  "You accuse _me_ of keeping secrets from you—look at you!  You _know_ you're being an arse—and then you blame me for not trusting you be able to act mature if I _did_ tell you about things I was keeping from you!"  Harry paused and paced some more; shaking his head before raking a hand through his hair.  "I need some bloody good answers here, Ron," Harry said finally. 

"Pomfrey said I could have had a Memory Charm that night.   She wanted to give me one.  Dumbledore was here and I overheard her telling him she thought it'd be best.  I told them no way.   I told Madame Pomfrey I didn't want it."  Ron looked down grumpily as he picked at his sheets.  "Wish I'd have taken it," he said bitterly.  "You guys could have just filled me in one what had happened.  Everything would have been perfect then."  

"You can't know that," Harry said.

Ron shrugged.  "Dumbledore said it was my decision.  He told me I was in control of my destiny and if that was my choice, then so be it."  Ron just shook his head.  "No one hardly _ever_ listens to me and _this_ was when someone finally decides to let me make my own decisions?  _Brilliant_." 

Silence surrounded them for several minutes after this while Harry tried to imagine what Ron must be going through.  Ron had a reason finally...his behavior had an _excuse_.  Harry felt he could grant that to Ron but it wouldn't mean anything if there wasn't some resolution of the problem as it still existed. 

"Why'd you stop taking the stuff that helped in the first place?" Harry asked.  "Doesn't it help anymore _at all_?"

Ron shrugged.  "Thought I didn't need it."  He drew his knees up to his chest, tossing the brown bottle from Krum over to his pillow.  "Pomfrey said I should keep taking it until I didn't need it, but...s'spensive," Ron muttered. 

_It's expensive_, Harry heard though. 

A few more minutes passed and Ron said, "Mum kept fretting over how much it cost.  She tried learning how to brew it up herself but it takes over a week to brew and she didn't have the time."

"And that?" Harry asked as he pointed to the brown bottle lying beside Ron. 

Ron shrugged.  "Krum's been helping me.  I...well, after school started back up, I knew I needed—that I should have still been taking the potion.   After I left Potions with Snape I was really furious with myself for quitting and knew I should've stuck it out to get better and learn how to make the potion myself.  Ginny mentioned once how Krum held these open-lab sessions in the evening for students to practice and I...well, he's teaching potions and all so I...you know..."

"You asked him to help you?"

Ron nodded and rested his chin on his knees.  "Yeah.  We managed together to create the Oblivious Unction but...well, it wasn't working."  Ron went on to describe how he thought they must have been getting something wrong and kept trying to get it right.  "Finally, Dumbledore talked with me at the Celebration—he said we were probably making the potion just fine but that it was too late." 

Harry nodded; he'd read this in Ron's letter.  "Right, he said you'd have to learn to cope and overcome it, yes?  Like a Boggart, you said?"  Ron nodded.  "Did you tell Krum this?"

Ron glanced over at the brown bottle lying on its side and nodded.  "Yeah.  He's still interested in helping me, though.  Don't know why.  I think he hopes to make some discovery worthy of getting published.  Kind of his pet project, you know?" 

Harry nodded; relived to finally know what could have brought Ron and Krum together to be friends. 

Ron broke the silence after a few minutes, saying, "Ginny said I might have royally screwed up with what I said earlier...about the prophecy."  Harry winced; it was a reflexive action he'd developed to just about anyone bringing up the damned thing.  "She said...she said I might have made You-Know-Who want to go after you even more."

Harry laughed.  "Me?  _You_—he'll want..." he trailed off at seeing the horrified look on Ron's face.  "Er, I mean..." Harry waved his hand, "It won't matter.  Dumbledore's _conveniently_ arranged for..." _for just another little part of my life to be handed over to the public_. 

"Harry?"

"Huh?  Forget it.  Nevermind.  The scene from dinner tonight should be long forgotten after breakfast tomorrow morning."  The look of relief that spread across Ron's face was palpable.  "And Snape's gone to deal with Voldemort." 

At the mention of that name, the relief upon Ron's face faltered a bit.  Ron cleared his throat.  "So, er, what Snape did to me...was that—"

"Legillimency?  Yeah.  Forced Legillimency.  Not the art—like what I used before when I looked into your eyes." 

Ron shuddered at the memory.  "Was awful," he said.  "Now I know why you hated going to learn Occlumency with him last year, at least, if that was what it was like.  Every bad thought or memory I'm ashamed or embarrassed of came flying back at me." 

_Jealous...envious...bitter_.  Snape's words replayed in Harry's mind.   _The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing..._  Harry didn't want to dwell on any of that. 

"Well," Harry said as he sat down, hoping to come to some sort of resolution.  "What are you going to do about all this now?"  Ron only looked unsure.  "I want my friend Ron back but I'm not going to hang around an arse while I wait for him."

"I'm not being an arse now!" Ron protested.

"Yeah—_now_!" Harry shot back.  He lowered his voice then and said, "You were an arse at dinner—that can't be going on.  You were an arse at the Celebration.  You've been _awful_ to Hermione—awful beyond words."

Ron's' face screwed up at this.  "Why'd you have to go mention _her_ for," he grumbled moodily as he pulled a thread from the hem of his jeans. 

Harry stood up again.  "She _was _your best friend along with me not too long ago, you know," he rushed out heatedly.   "She's _still_ my best friend, my _girlfriend _and I'm bloody well in _love_ with her so don't go expecting me to not talk about her or mention her!  I can't very well just...just forget..." Harry paused, feeling dizzy.  "I..."

His own words replayed in his mind. 

_...in love with her..._

"I..."

"Harry?"

Harry didn't answer.  He sank down heavily back into his chair and dropped his head into his hands.  He felt light-headed and dizzy and his heart was beating rapidly.  It was slightly euphoric and altogether unsettling, this feeling.  He felt out of control and like the very blood in his veins was heating and rushing about at full speed.

Ron spoke up in answer to Harry's silence.  "Er, maybe you _should_ talk about her.  I mean, I think my memories—my replays—get all muddled up when you mention her or when you're both around me.  The memories of you and her get all mixed up and...crossed about.  It might help, though.  I mean, it can't get worse, right?"

Harry was only vaguely listening to Ron; his mind was still whirling. "I haven't told her.  You know...about...you know..."

"What?"

Harry sighed.   "_You know_," he said through gritted teeth.  "_Those words?"_

Ron had to guess a few times before finally saying, "What?  'I love you'?" at which Harry stiffened and nodded once. 

"I...I sort of freak out.  I can't...I don't know.  I _freak_."

"Well, that's messed up," Ron declared without hesitation

Harry smiled and rubbed his eyes behind his glasses.  "Yeah, I know." 

Somehow, in this brief and awkward exchange, Harry had a wistful glimpse of what it could be like; being able to have a best mate with whom he could talk openly about his girlfriend. It seemed like such a normal, teenaged thing to do.  Unfortunately, with Ron being that mate and Hermione being that girlfriend, it was a rather unrealistic wish.   

"So we'll work on this then, yes?" Harry asked.  "Hermione will want to help.  You ought to apologize to her—if for no other reason than because I want you to—but I'd bet she'd forgive you anyway after hearing about what's been going on."  Harry's voice was firm and he hoped Ron understood that this wasn't merely a request. 

"I'll try," Ron said heavily.  He looked dreadfully at the brown bottle from Krum and said, "That stuff's supposed to help me not react to the memories.  Supposed to deaden the emotion that causes the reactions now.  At least, that's what Krum says." 

Harry nodded.  "You coming up to bed then?"

Ron made a face and said, "Er, actually, if I stay here, then I get breakfast here and can skip the Great Hall and head straight to classes." 

Harry thought that didn't sound half bad but nodded, saying, "Can't blame you.  I'm off to bed though.  I've got the feeling I'm going to need some sleep before tomorrow." 

Despite Ron's semi-pained expression, Harry only waved once; saying, "See ya," before slipping his cloak back on and heading back to Gryffindor Tower. 

Back in his dormitory, Harry found his drapes pulled shut tight and concealing a curled up Hermione who was fast asleep in his bed.  She had two pieces of parchment clutched in her hand as she slept; one was the Marauder's Map and the other was Ron's letter. 

It was past two in the morning and the feel of her there as he slipped in behind her made Harry feel quite pleased.   As his arms snaked around to pull her close and he brushed back her hair so his lips could press a kiss against her neck, the words that had spilled from his mouth when talking to Ron replayed in his mind.  _I'm in love with her.  _

The memory made his heart pound.  It occurred to him that it might be worth putting aside his fears to force himself to tell her.  A litany of voices began to murmur their encouragement to this idea as Harry clutched her closer still.  But no, he couldn't.  _Nothing good could come of that_.  It just wasn't meant for him.  Sleep claimed him before his voices could protest...

He and Hermione were sliding down a ribbon-shaped rollercoaster.   The ribbon then turned into a filmstrip and they dropped down into a theatre where the screen showed flickering images playing rapidly in reverse.  One image showed Dumbledore twinkling and winking conspiratorially.  Another image showed Ron, rocking back and forth as he held his knees to his chest and wailed, "Don't leave me, Harry!  I was a good friend, wasn't I?  Harry?" 

"Wasn't I?" the voice changed then as the images on screen went from flickering across the screen to rushing straight at Harry.  Hermione was no longer beside him.

"I _was_ a good servant, Master," the voice whimpered again desperately.  "_No...please!"_

Images of Ron at the Burrow flew towards Harry.  He was watching on as Mrs. Weasley stood leaning over a cauldron near the fireplace and looking down.  Another image of Ron, this time as he pulled his shirt up and over his head, revealing pearly white welts across his chest, shoulders and arms.  Next, an image of Ron showed him tying a letter to Hedwig's leg and then letting her fly out the window of his bedroom.  Other scenes from the Burrow—each from around floor level—raced at Harry.  Most meaningless but each time, the images of Ron slowed before racing past.

The images swirled then to an abrupt halt, smashing into each other mere inches from his face.  With a violent thrust, he shoved back at them and suddenly found himself standing above a collapsed and mewling form that was sprawled upon a worn and dusty hardwood floor. 

With contempt, Harry kicked out at the robed figure on the floor, making him cry out in pain. 

"You disappoint me," Harry said in a high, cold, cruel voice.  He pointed then, with a long, bone-white finger as he commanded, "OUT!"   The crumpled form shot from its spot on the floor across the room and smashed into the doorframe on the opposite wall with a sickening _crack_. 

Pleased, Harry smiled to himself and flexed his fingers as he felt them tingle with a rush of warmth.  With an image of a whimpering, pleading Ron, he felt a surge or power so strong he reflexively fisted his hands, trying to embrace it. 

His hands clenched and one fisted into something so full and real it was almost like grasping a ripened fruit. 

"_Oohhh!_" a voice said in front of him. 

If he could just squeeze it and seize it as his; then it could no longer elude him.  Finally he could crush it.  He could almost feel his nails digging in and pressing into the skin, about to puncture. 

"Har-_ry!_  Stop—_oh!"_

Abruptly, as a searing pain shot through the back of his hand, Harry's eyes jolted open and he spit out a mouthful of bushy hair. 

"_Stop it, Harry.  Stop!" _Hermione whimpered, choking on her words. 

It was her fingernails digging, clawing into the back of his hand, which was latched onto one of her breasts. 

Hoarsely, and as he realised his scar was throbbing painfully, he croaked out, "Her—Hermione?" 

He could feel her shaking, as her face remained buried in a pillow and her hands desperately tried to pry Harry's away from her. 

Stunned he let go and she pulled away, curling up and shaking even more. 

Outside the hangings of his bed, Harry heard a snicker and then Seamus called out, "I didn't know all the Prefects took turns doing bed checks!"   Seamus laughed at his own joke then and Harry groped absently along the hangings above the head of his bed where his wand was tucked into a pocket. 

As Seamus muttered some other lewd comment, Harry growled in frustration, "Oh—_silencio_, damnit!"  Seamus' comment was cut off just as Harry's hand closed about his wand.  He quickly flicked up an Imperturbable Charm about his bed. 

He was shaking.  _Hermione_ was shaking.  She was still curled up beside him, wet sobs shuddering though her body as she clutched a blanket around her. 

_Oh, god...what have I done?    _

Harry's scar throbbed again then, almost in answer to his question.  Idiot!  Harry wanted to curse himself—he'd gone and fallen asleep without practicing any sort of Occlumency after his talk with Ron and on a night where so much had already happened...this was totally unforgivable. 

"Oh, god...Hermione," he said desperately as he reached out a hand towards her huddled form. 

She merely curled away and shook in response. 

The repulsive feeling of his hand clenching, squeezing; fingernails trying to puncture her skin, made his stomach lurch.  He tried to tug back on the blanket she had clutched about her. 

"Hermione...please," he pleaded. 

He'd been foolish—lazy, irresponsible and reckless to not sort through his thoughts before falling asleep.  And look where it'd gotten him!  Hermione might never want him to touch her ever again—and he couldn't really blame her.  _He_ felt disgusted and frightened by what he'd done. 

"_Please...Hermione_," he whispered thickly.  "I...it wasn't me...I'm so sorry..._please...oh, god!"_  His head dropped down and rested upon her shaking hip.  "_Please..."_ he trailed off as he risked one hand, splayed open, rubbing up and along her back. 

He chastised himself mentally—_how could I have been so stupid?  What if she hadn't woken me up in time?_  He'd hurt her...he wondered now if she was hurt, bruised or—worse—bleeding and still in pain. 

"Hermione," he pleaded again softly as his open palm still continued to stroke up and down her back.   "Are you...please let me see if you're...if you're hurt?  Please?"  He'd lifted his head from her hip as he spoke. 

She was no longer crying but her breath still came in shudders and, as she failed to reply, he laid his head down upon her hip once again.  He shivered in the cold and berated himself over and over again for being _utterly_ reckless and foolish. 

Several minutes later, when he noticed her breathing was no longer coming in gasps or shudders, he tried again.  "Hermione?" he whispered.  "I'm an idiot.  I...I never should have just crawled into bed and fallen asleep like that." 

He wasn't expecting her to respond by now and so felt he should at least talk just in case she was listening. 

"I'm an_ idiot! _ Please..._please_—I need to know if you're still hurt.  I don't ever want to hurt you.  Not ever..." 

_Yes you did_, a smug, accusing voice in his head said. 

"No...I didn't..."

_Yes you did...you wanted to draw blood...you craved it..._

"No!" Harry protested.  He rolled over then onto his side and clutched at his own head.  He didn't...that wasn't him...it wasn't!  "No...I wouldn't...not _ever_..." 

As the mocking voice tried to argue once more, Harry pushed it away, refusing to listen to its lies. 

"No..." he whispered as his hands fisted into his own hair.  _That_ pain was right.  _That_ was pain he deserved.  _He_ was the one who deserved to be hurt.  Not Hermione...not _ever_ Hermione...

He felt the bed shift beside him and, as he realized Hermione was the one shifting, he released his hair from his hands and rolled back over to his side to curl around her.  Wishing he could feel her—touch her with the reverence she deserved—one hand ran over the blanket in front of her.  He heard more rustling from her and, when he felt the fingers of her hand contact his, he felt his heart elate. 

Their hands laced together.  Through their entwined hands, he could feel her pulse beating against his; duelling until they each slowed to beat in sync.    Hermione uncurled herself and Harry moved back to allow her room.  Settling back on a pillow, her other hand reached for Harry's and he leaned over her; both of their hands entwined and not a word exchanged between them. 

He wanted light.  He wanted—_needed_ to see her.  He needed to see if and how badly he'd hurt her.   He wished he hadn't.  He wished he could undo any and all of her pain. 

His eyes caught the sight of his wand peeking out from beneath her pillow.  But he didn't want to let go.  His mind warred over wanting light from his wand to see her or wanting to never let go of her hands.

Both desires won out as tiny pinpricks of golden light shimmered into being around them, illuminating Hermione's face beneath his.  The relief he felt at seeing her face glow in the light was enough to steal his breath away. 

Her eyes, he was ever so relieved held nothing but trust.  There wasn't a trace of accusation or fright like he'd feared.  Why, he honestly couldn't fathom. 

His gaze slid down from her face to her neck, her chest and her askew nightshirt.  The top several buttons of the shirt were undone and the shirt was spread open to reveal a line of angry, red-tinged marks that led down beneath the line of the shirt and, he could just see, made out the shape of a handprint. 

Deftly, Harry leaned down to press his lips in the center of her chest, just over her heart.  She made no sound of protest and her fingers still remained entwined with his.  Nimbly, he trailed a line of small kisses over to the first offending pink bruise.  His mouth hovered over the mark and he touched his lips to it softly, feeling the heat rise from the mark. 

His heart constricted when a flash of memory, reminding him how she'd suffered these marks, assaulted his mind.   But he'd never _ever_ meant that; he was here to undo what he'd done.  His lips, so sensitive to every nuance of the skin they travelled over, told him he'd not broken any skin there.  With kisses and the smallest lick of his tongue he traced the mark along its path, pushing down the collar of her shirt with his nose as he went. 

From one mark to the other, Harry went, his lips speaking wordless contrition as the heat from the marks guided him along.  His eyes closed as he moved along each and every spot that radiated heat and, as he kissed them, he wished he could erase each away. 

In his mind, he was mapping out the route his mouth had taken and finally, the only heat he felt reflecting off of his lips was that where her bud of a nipple jutted out stiffly.  It caught upon his lower lip as his mouth ran over it and his tongue lapped out at it once, swirling around before his mouth latched on and kissed the bud until it was stiffer still. 

The first sound to come from Hermione's lips since she'd awoken Harry from his dream was a moan as her back arched into Harry's mouth.  Desire coursed through Harry at this reaction from her and he only reluctantly pulled his mouth away as her hands tugged his upwards. 

As he met her face, Hermione leaned up to brush her lips against his.  He leaned forward then, across her chest, as his lips ghosted over, across and upon hers.     Her lips played with trying to catch at his before his could catch hers. 

Harry's heart fluttered about happily in his chest at this and, as he paused, leaning their foreheads together, he felt emotion well up within; warm and radiant. 

_I'm in love with her_. 

The words ran through his mind as he lost himself looking down into her eyes, which sparkled with dancing reflections of the tiny pinpricks of light shimmering above them. 

The words were right there in his mind.  His mouth was somehow connected to his mind, he was sure of it.  If he could only get it from one place to the other...but, wait. 

_No._

He'd just considered telling her this very same thing just before he'd fallen asleep; _right_ before all this had happened. 

_No_. 

It was clear he'd ventured too close already to some line he knew he couldn't dare to cross.  He _needed_ to keep her from getting hurt.  _She_ was the one thing he couldn't stand to lose. 

He pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered, "You should probably go back to your dormitory."  He rolled over onto his side, their faces still together.  "I...I can't fall asleep yet.  You should get some sleep."  He kissed her lips once more before she pulled back and nodded.  "We'll talk in the morning," he said as she sat up, their entwined hands finally breaking apart. 

He reached over and under his bed to pull out his Invisibility Cloak and then handed it to her.  "Here."

Hermione finished buttoning up her nightshirt before taking the cloak.  With a palm, she caressed the side of his face from forehead to jaw and pressed a kiss upon his scar.  Just as Harry was thinking about his scar not hurting at all anymore, she whispered, "I love you," before throwing the cloak about her shoulders and disappearing into the night.   Harry was left alone in the dark, feeling his heart clench painfully in his chest. 

The next morning, Harry awoke early after only a few sound hours of sleep.  He awoke before anyone else in his dormitory and he showered and dressed quickly before slipping down to the Common Room. 

Hermione was already there, stuffing an incredible number of books into her Notably Toteable Library Satchel, which had a Featherweight Charm on it, good for up to ten stone. 

"You're up early," he said as he leaned over the back of her chair to whisper in her ear. 

Hermione nodded, "I was thinking you'd likely want to go to breakfast early in case you wanted to then leave early."  She gave him a knowing look. 

_Today's Daily Prophet_. 

Harry had spent nearly a full hour awake last night (or early this morning) just trying to steel himself for whatever today's edition of the paper would bring. 

As a few other early-risers descended the stairs, Harry leaned over and asked, "How are you?  Do you need anything?" 

Hermione tucked a strand of hair behind an ear and smiled at Harry as she cocked her head to the side.  "I'm fine, actually.  Fine.  But how about you?"

"Me?"  Harry snorted.  "Angry with myself—_really_ angry."  Harry shook his head.  He didn't want to dwell on this if Hermione didn't.  "Come on, let's head down.  I'll tell you about my talk with Ron." 

As Hermione had already heard an explanation of Ron's affliction from Ginny and also found the letter to Harry on his bed, she had pretty much put together a clear picture of what he was facing.   The fact that Krum had been helping Ron with potions, however, completely floored her. 

"I can't believe it!" she said, shaking her head.  "I'm astounded that Viktor would be the one helping Ron after Ron _loathed_ Viktor for so long.  I...I'm, well," she laughed shortly, "I'm surprised to say the least." 

She was just as stunned at Ron's ambition to work on making a potion to help himself get better, so much so that she never noticed all the teachers enter and be seated at the head table all at once, just moments before the first flapping of wings announced the arrival of mail. 

Harry, however, did notice that one professor in particular was missing from the progression to the head table; _Snape_.  As Harry's gaze travelled over the assembly of professors, he noticed an unusual amount of eyes met his and were looking his way. 

Dumbledore, however _not_ unusual, was also one of these and Harry knew at once that the reason all the teachers had been called together to meet before entering the hall, was more likely to discuss _him_. 

If he hadn't already donned an ironclad layer of calm and cool about him, Harry would have been fuming at Dumbledore.  As it was, he merely turned back to finish off his tea and move a pitcher of pumpkin juice swiftly out of the way just before a tawny owl landed in its place. 

Hermione exchanged a look with Harry as she tucked some coins into the owl's zippered leg-pocket.  He had half a mind to tell her to just fold it away and not read it all but asking that of Hermione would likely take more than the Imperius Curse. 

The Daily Prophet's headline was a scrolling and rotating series of announcements ranging from: "_Junior Undersecretary Weasley Found Guilty of Crimes Against the State_", "_Wizengamot Rules and Rolls Out New Policies_", "_Evidence Unearthed Connecting Former Minister Fudge to You-Know-Who's Closest Servants_", to the one Harry was fearing most, reading, "_Legendary Myth of The Prophesised Boy Who Would Live Confirmed: Albus Dumbledore Admits He's Been Training Harry Potter as His Apprentice All Along_".

Harry could barely coordinate his movement enough to nudge Hermione and mumble, "_Library—let's go_."

As they left the Great Hall, Harry could hear a rising murmur from the tables beneath Colin Creevey shouting out, "Hey, Harry!  Did you see?  The Prophet finally used one of the photos I sent in of you!  Did you see, Harry?  Did you?"

Once they were away from the eyes of the Great hall, Harry muttered, "I can't believe Dumbledore...Can you believe him?"

"Harry!" Hermione said, surprised.  "You honestly don't believe that _everything_ Dumbledore has done, he's done with your best interests in mind?!" 

Harry couldn't meet her eyes.  He didn't have to think too hard to come up with any number of things he wished had been different throughout his life and quite a few of these, Harry felt, could be traced back somehow to Dumbledore. 

Hermione's hand intertwined with Harry's as they sat at their usual corner table in the library.  She didn't let go.

"Harry, Professor Dumbledore simultaneously holds the positions of Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot and Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards!  Well, with a few short stints where he was removed from his positions, but—we both know what that was about. 

"_Harry_—I don't think you realise _all_ that he does and _has_ been doing.  Why do you think he's still been holding onto these positions?"  Hermione looked earnestly into Harry's eyes.  "I'll bet you anything that Dumbledore's been keeping his hand in everything he could just so he was around if _you_ needed him to be.  You can't fault him for his trying to make things easier on you!"

Hermione turned then and dug into her satchel.  After a few minutes of rooting around, she pulled out a square, thin, silver book.  "Here," she said placing the book on the table. 

She muttered some words and the silver turned into a mirrored surface and the sharp corners rounded out into a circle.  Across the front, in smoke letters, the book read, _Mysteries of a Prophesy_.

"Read this," she said as she flipped through delicate silvery pages until she found just the one.  "Here."

Harry looked down at the text where her finger was pointing. 

It read:

_The stimulus for the generation of a true prophecy has long been the source of scholarly study.  It is clear, however that the generation of a prophesy is neither random nor inducible.  Consistently, prophecies are seen to be resultant from a trine between two major planetary influences, one gifted with Sight and the presence of a catalysing beneficiary.  _

_The beneficiary, or one to whom the prophecy is given, is fated to assist in the execution of the prophesy as told.  For centuries, chosen beneficiaries tried to fight or change the destinies foretold to them.  Almost always, beneficiaries are opposed to the prophesised fates to which they are chosen to bear witness.  Equally as often, the beneficiaries are unable to change these fates.  _

"Don't you see, Harry?" Hermione said after he read the silvery page. 

Harry didn't see. 

Hermione looked at him intently.  "Harry, I think Dumbledore knew he was fated somehow help bring the prophesy to fruition and that he _couldn't_ change it just because he knew it; in fact, he was the one person who couldn't change it.  He knows that no matter what he does—he will still _somehow_ catalyse prophesy events.   

"I don't think you can blame him for how things concerning this prophesy have played out.  Look—" she flipped several delicate, shiny pages and pointed, "—there are even instances where some beneficiaries have tried using Time-Turners to undo what they caused and, unlike most events when using time-manipulators, beneficiaries could _never_ change prophesised events.  Even if the _how_ and _when_ changed; the _what_ was _always_ unavoidably going to be caused by this one person."  

Harry just looked at Hermione.  He felt numb enough as it was and now he had to try to comprehend this? 

"I checked this out last night,"; Hermione said, taking the book back and replacing the Concealment Charm on it.  Whispering conspiratorially, she added, "Actually, I stole it from the library here.  After I heard what would be in the _Prophet_ today, I wanted to make sure no one else could check this out." 

Harry just started at her; incredibly amazed that Hermione Granger of all people had _stolen_ a library book. 

After she shoved the book back into her satchel, she beamed and commented, "I've been researching Madam Pince's spells since third year.  About time it paid off." 

* * *

* * *

REMINDER: You can find chapter files, a discussion forum, and other dedicated and outrageously Potter-obsessed readers at my Yahoo group for this fic. There is a link on my bio page to the group. The Yahoo group name is: HPAoF. Cheers! 

Oh, oh!!  And I finally got the song file from Chapter 18 to load.  It's in the group's File section. 

* * *


	50. Chapter 53 What You Don't Know

* * *

**Chapter 53. What You Don't Know**

Only a sudden drop in the buzzing murmurs of Harry's classmates announced the beginning of Charms class to Harry who was firmly entrenched in his belief that if he ignored the whispers, looks and even overt questions of, "Is it true, Harry?" then it would all go away.  Eventually. 

_It always did_, he tried to remind himself.  The whispers about him being a parselmouth and an heir of Slytherin, the belief that he'd snuck his name into the Goblet of Fire in a hunger for more fame and attention, the murmurs about what his role had _really_ been in Cedric Diggory's death and the scandals surrounding Harry's claim of witnessing Voldemort's rebirth; these were all things that had passed with time.  These nasty morsels of delectable gossip had been gluttonously eaten up and regurgitated at length before they each, eventually, died down; unproven. 

But this was different, he realised.  The now public knowledge that Harry was deemed by a prophecy as one with the power to vanquish Voldemort for good was finally—_finally_—an explanation of sorts that brought substance to the legend of The Boy Who Lived.  This was finally an explanation of sorts as to _why_ Harry was always involved in anything to do with Voldemort.  Whether it was saving the Philosopher's Stone from some possessed Voldemort-minion, wielding a great sword about and slaying a hundred-year old Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets or why Harry was the one who walked away when Diggory didn't.  Finally—and Harry could hear the whispers even now, amidst the prattling on of Professor Flitwick—they all thought they now understood why Harry Potter had been targeted as a baby and why, when no one else did, he survived being marked for death; he was _one with the power_.

"...he's ought to be the one to do in You-Know-Who!"

"...it's why You-Know-Who went after him in the first place!  He _knew_ Potter would be powerful."

"...he beat him as a baby!  Imagine what he could do now!"

"Wonder why he's sitting around here in school with the lot of us.  Shouldn't he be off hunting down You-Know-Who before he gets on to more killing and terrorizing?"

"He's been training with Dumbledore all along—he's the Headmaster's apprentice, you know!"

Expectations; they weighed ever so heavily upon Harry's mind as his ears couldn't help but pick up random whispers. 

The comments continued though the morning as he made his way around to classes.  He ignored them all stoically while, secretly, he longed to rant at Dumbledore about all these ever-increasing expectations.  Especially the ones that were borne of the belief that Harry had been Dumbledore's apprentice all along.  They'd expect Harry to be every bit as capable and skilful as Dumbledore who was, incidentally, just the greatest wizard of the age.  No great expectations there.  

Harry felt Dumbledore _owed_ it to him to make sure Harry wouldn't and couldn't fail these expectations.  He wanted to _demand_ that Dumbledore open up his brain and wisdom and pour it all forth for Harry to absorb as quickly as possible because Harry knew all too well that he wasn't _half_ the wizard everyone now thought he was.   

On the way into the Great Hall for lunch, the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy cut through the chattering of the rest of the students. 

"Hey, Weasel!  I heard your brother is excited to finally get a _real_ place to stay.  Said even a prison cell is a step up from your hole in the ground hovel!"  Malfoy called out as he pointed and laughed hatefully at Ron who was just a few paces ahead of Harry.  Harry saw Pansy Parkinson simpering and clinging to Malfoy's side.

"That's rich coming from you, Malfoy," Ron said coolly as he stopped to face him.  "Perhaps he and your dad are cell mates, eh?" 

Harry moved up to Ron's side just as Neville closed in on the other.  "Come on, Ron," Harry said as he nudged him along towards the Gryffindor table.  "Malfoy's just jealous his dad has to share headline space with anyone else." 

At this, Malfoy scoffed loudly.  "Me?!  _Hah_!  You _must_ be joking, Potter!" he said incredulously.  "_You're_ the one with all the press clippings!  _You're_ the one with a headline every other day and people fawning all over you because they think _you're_ so special.  You're _not_!" he spat viciously.   "You're _nothing_!"

"Stuff it, Malfoy!" Neville said warningly as he too tugged at Ron's elbow to get them to move along. 

"Look at Longbottom!" Malfoy said as he laughed again.  "He gets mentioned _once_ in the paper and now he thinks he's all hung like a hippogriff!"  Harry saw Neville's face redden at this as they both continued to escort Ron to the Gryffindor table. 

"Forget Malfoy," Harry said as the three of them sat down at the table.  "Amazing how he finds the bollocks to make fun of anyone else who has a family member getting convicted of a crime."

Ron snorted at this and said, "Yeah, compared to his dad, Percy's a saint!"

Harry and Ron looked at each other.  Harry saw the faintest traces of pained emotion cross Ron's face and Harry's stress at the day eased away as he concerned himself with how Ron was coping.  "All right there, mate?" he asked as he lifted a platter of sandwiches from the middle of the table and offered it over to Ron. 

Ron turned his focus to the sandwiches and, selecting a random handful, nodded, saying, "Yeah, not bad."

Harry turned then to offer the platter to Neville on his other side and paused, remembering what Malfoy had said.  "Say, Neville, what did Malfoy mean when he said you were in the paper?  I kind of have to admit, I really didn't read it at all this morning." 

At this, Neville's cheeks glowed a brilliant red and he looked like he was testing the anti-apparition wards of Hogwarts right then and there.  He was looking only at his plate and, although Harry could see his lips moving, there was no sound to be heard.

"Neville?" Harry prodded. 

Neville wasn't answering. Instead, he was hastily wrapping his sandwich in a napkin and now mumbling, "Need...go...greenhouse...later."  Harry watched him hasten away from the table and out of the Great Hall. 

"Ron?" Harry asked then, swivelling to face the other side.   

Ron's mouth was full and he had a smudge of butter at the corner of his mouth that was threatening to fall into his lap as he chewed.   "Hmmh?" he grunted through his mouthful of food. 

Harry rolled his eyes as he turned back to his plate, saying grumpily, "Fine.  Everyone can read all about me and all sorts of rubbish in any old rag that's in print but no one wants to tell me what Malfoy was on about Neville."  Ron was working on a mouthful of food and held up one hand, telling Harry to hold on.

But before Ron could swallow, Ginny breezed in and sat across from Harry and Ron.  "See you two are managing to sit beside each other today.  That's good news," she said airily.  "Harry, please pass me the pumpkin juice."  As Harry did, impatiently waiting for Ron to regain his ability to speak, she asked, "So, what are you being tetchy about today?"

"Me?" Harry asked with a touch of annoyance. 

Ginny didn't let him get started on his justifying his attitude of the day and talked over him, saying, "I just saw Neville leaving the Hall in a rush.  Poor him, he's been on the end of just as many curious looks as you today, I'd imagine.  Unfortunately, unlike you, he's not at _all_ used to it." 

"What are you on about?" Harry asked. 

"The paper," Ginny said as if it were obvious.  "The article your favorite reporter, Rita Skeeter, did on you and the prophecy news.  She said, according to Ministry archives, Neville was down as the only other known candidate for your prophecy as you were the only boys born around the proper time.  She said the Ministry only knew for sure it was you after you did in You-Know-Who as a baby.  I heard Malfoy earlier in the hallway making all sorts of cracks about Neville being the Boy Who Thankfully Isn't Famous and loads of other rubbish." 

Beside Harry, Ron was nodding and with a loud gulp, finally swallowed his food.  "Yeah, I saw that too.  I can't help but look at him now and wonder what it would be like if _he'd_ been the famous one all along." 

Harry blinked, biting the inside of his cheek as he peeled away the wilted edge of the lettuce on his sandwich.   

"Did you already know, Harry?" Ginny asked shrewdly. 

Harry could only nod.  He couldn't imagine what it felt like to be Neville right about now but he sure as hell knew all about having people stare at you all day long.

"Well," said Ginny brightly then.  "This should at least cheer you up—all Defense classes are cancelled today.  There's a note on the door.  At least you don't have to see Snape at all today." 

"What?"  Harry's head perked up at this.  "Why Not? Is..."  He wondered where Snape was that he couldn't be around for class.  He wondered if Snape had returned yet from last night.  He even wondered if Snape was returning at _all_ after last night and especially in light of his condition after his last return from Voldemort. 

"Brilliant!" Ron said happily.  "Isn't that brilliant, Harry?"  But at Harry's dark look, Ron's grin faltered.  "Wha—"

"That means he's not back yet," Harry whispered hurriedly to Ron.  "From last night.  Why else would he not be here today?" 

"Oh," Ron said and then his eyes widened.  "_Ooh_!" 

Harry nodded.  He needed to find out what happened to Snape. 

"Come in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice called just as Harry's hand rose to knock on the worn oak door. 

Fawkes trilled a greeting of his own as Harry pushed open the door to see Dumbledore seated in his high-backed chair while an irritated (and perfectly uninjured-looking) Snape prowled back and forth in front of the Headmaster's fireplace. 

"Good afternoon, Harry.  Pepper Imp?" Dumbledore offered. 

Harry just shook his head.  "No, sir.  I was just, er, curious—" Snape snorted at this and Harry turned to face him, "—as to how you'd gotten on last night with your...mission." 

Snape looked highly sceptical.

"I heard all your classes were cancelled for the day," Harry added by way of explanation.

"Ah yes," said Dumbledore cheerfully.  "We were just discussing Professor Snape's inability to make his classes today.  He only just now returned.  I was just suggesting to him that if this were to ever happen in the future, he might—"

"I'm not handing my classes over to _this_ already arrogant whelp!" Snape burst out as he pointed one long, yellowed finger at Harry with contempt. 

Dumbledore smiled indulgently.  "My, but wouldn't you say, Severus, that it would be nice—"

"No!" Snape snapped.

"I was merely suggesting—"

"_No_!" Snape said as he gritted his teeth, crossed his arms and stomped a foot in petulant protest. 

Dumbledore sighed. 

"Er, Professor Dumbledore," Harry said tentatively.  "I don't think I'd feel very comfortable with that idea either."

Dumbledore looked disappointed.  "But you've been doing such a fine job with the third years, Harry!  Their mid-term exams came out brilliantly and I quite think you have a knack for teaching." 

Harry was shaking his head.  "But they're only _third_ years."

"I will _not_ stand for this, Headmaster!" Snape said warningly.  "If you insist I have a teaching assistant on hand to take over classes then so be it but _I_ will choose who that is and I can assure you it would _not_ be Potter!"

Dumbledore sighed again.  "Very well, then," he said resignedly. Softly, he added, "It was only a suggestion." 

Before Snape could retort and tell Dumbledore what he could do with his suggestion, Harry asked, "How did it go with Voldemort, Professor?" 

Snape stiffened at the name and it was Dumbledore who responded, "Professor Snape had a rather successful mission last night." 

Harry looked at Snape who was glaring challengingly right back at him.  "So, you regained some favourer then?" Harry asked slowly. 

Snape's eyes narrowed as he said haughtily, "The Dark Lord is almost always fickle and I believe I had the good fortune offering to him the only good news he'd had in days." 

"Yes, I can imagine he's not pleased at all," Dumbledore said with a smile.  "His spies in the Ministry are now being put in a very difficult position with Fudge gone and the Imperius Curse an unsavoury excuse.  Any spies remaining will be forced to go deeper under cover and their effectiveness shall surely be hampered." 

A clock on Dumbledore's desk then chimed once and, after pulling out a gold pocket watch for a consultation, Dumbledore announced, "I have a brief firecall to make.  If you would both excuse me for a few minutes."  He rose from his seat and smiled benignly at Harry and then at Snape.  "Please do remain here; I will only be a few minutes."

After Dumbledore swept up a spiral set of steps that disappeared behind a bookcase Harry looked back to Snape.  "So, you convinced Vol--_him _that Ron's comments on the prophecy were just coincidental?" 

Snape looked down his long hooked nose at Harry as he said, "The Dark Lord already knew of the impending public release of the opening lines of the prophecy as he knew them.  He believes you only just told your friends that which was made public knowledge today. 

"He _was,_ however, _most_ pleased about uncovering a weakness in one of your close friends," Snape said slowly.   "You can rest assured that he will _not_ allow it to go unexploited.   If I were you, Potter," Snape said with a frightening amount of cheer, "I would publicly and irrevocably break off all ties with Weasley as soon as possible.  His weaknesses are a danger to you as we speak." 

Snape seemed to grow incredibly smug after this pronouncement as he watched Harry's reaction. 

"I—you've _got_ to be—_no way_!" Harry said indignantly.  Snape wasn't about to convince Harry to abandon Ron now when he'd finally come clean with what had been causing all his problems. 

Snape glowered menacingly.  "Potter—do you not know what Weasley thinks of you?  He is _jealous_ of you.  He _envies_ you.  Do you not know this?" Snape said forcefully as his black eyes glittered.  "I saw _quite_ clearly the preponderance of his feelings towards you, Potter.  Did you not know he covets your very own Miss Granger?  Hmm?  He's _consumed_ with anger towards her and surrounding her—"

"No!" Harry said angrily.  "He's not jealous _of_ me—he's jealous of what I _have_.  So _what_ if he wishes he had my fame?  I'm sure he's not the only one!" 

Snape's conviction seemed undeterred.  "There is no difference, Potter.  I know what I saw in his mind last night."

Harry glared at Snape.  "What were you probing for?  What was your focus when you cursed him?"  He couldn't help but wonder. 

Harry had always known in the back of his mind that there existed a part of Ron that would always be jealous of what Harry had, despite his never wanting it in the first place.  Ever since Hermione had pointed it out to Harry when Ron had finally had too much of Harry getting things handed to him that Ron longed for when the names had come out of the Goblet of Fire, Harry had known this.  It had always been there.   

Snape's ink black eyes glittered as his lip curled and he said, "I delved into his mind to ask _why_ he snapped.  I sought to see what underlying feelings were there and _what_ would make him publicly denounce a five-year friendship with the Boy Who Lived.  I searched, Potter, for his motivation and found a whole _host_ of resentment just—for—_you_."  The last few words were said with clipped emphasis and made Harry's hand itch with longing to strike out and smack into Snape's curling upper lip. 

"Maddening, isn't it, Potter?" he hissed is low whisper.  "To know you can't trust even those who know you and who you've called a friend...you can never be sure which _friend_ is your _enemy_..."

_It'd be worth a month of detention_, Harry thought, _just get in one good hit in on this evil, greasy son of a--_

"Ah, where were we then?" Dumbledore said brightly, announcing his return as he swept back down the small side staircase.  He peered over his silver, half-moon glasses at Harry and then at Snape before saying, "I hope I didn't try anyone's patience too long in keeping either of you waiting."

Snape drew himself up tall and intoned imperiously, "I have given you my report, Headmaster, and I believe that concludes my business here."

Dumbledore and Snape then exchanged a long look and Harry, wishing to clear both of them from his sight for the moment, turned and walked along the edge of the circular room.  As he strolled a few steps along the wall, his eyes passed over one curious portrait to the next until his eye caught upon an image of himself.  It was a mirror, a small gold-framed mirror in the shape of a sun and almost exactly at his eye level.  He'd never noticed this small gilded mirror before in amongst all the portraits that lined the walls of the Headmaster's office from ceiling to floor.  At the moment, it reflected his own tense and troubled face. 

He almost expected some snarky comment from the mirror as the ones in the boys' toilets often made.  But the mirror remained silent; reflecting an image of himself that appeared to be studying him with curiosity. 

The reflected image seemed absurd; ill matched as a representation of who he felt himself to be.  Harry couldn't help but be reminded of the near-identical face he'd seen that was his father's through the memory in Snape's penseive.  It was all there; the same untidy jet black hair, the thin angular face with glasses perched upon his nose.  But where his father had had darker, hazel eyes, Harry had bright green ones and where his father had had an unblemished forehead, Harry had one that paled in comparison to the pink, lightening bolt shaped scar that ran from his brow up into his hairline. 

A roar of fire behind him announced Snape's departure through the fireplace but Harry was still riveted to his own reflection and especially to his scar.  He was marked.

 _...marked as an equal..._ 

He'd been marked since before he was born.  He was marked where everyone and anyone could and would see and know he was the Boy Who Lived.  Now, thanks to the first few lines of the prophecy going public, everyone also knew the Boy Who Lived wasn't just a legend from some past event; he was a legend with more fated to come. 

He'd give anything to hide from that legend; that burden.  Even with his developing skills as a Metamorphmagus, Harry had never once made his scar fade one whit and he had the sneaking suspicion that he never would.  Masking spells didn't work on it and obscuring charms only diverted attention away from it if one didn't already know it was there.  He was marked for life.  How ever long that would be.

He heard Dumbledore rise from his chair.  "Is there something you'd like to ask me, Harry?"  The sound of a nearby portrait shifting and an old headmaster clearing his throat could be heard in the silence.  Harry heard Dumbledore's robes as he moved nearer and then paused a few feet behind him, just out of view in the mirror's reflection.  "Perhaps you're more inclined, due to recent events, to yell at me?" he said softly. 

Harry couldn't see the point.  Talking couldn't change what was done and yelling wouldn't help communicate anything he'd not already said before.  He'd learned long ago that the clearest answers were those said without words.

Dumbledore sighed and suggested then with weary amusement, "Hex me, perhaps?"

Now _that_, was much more tempting. 

"You tell me, sir," Harry said, still facing his reflection in the mirror and beginning to gather in his thoughts.  He focused on the image before him--his face with his scar prominently visible--and, as he turned to face Dumbledore, this was the image he put foremost in his mind to be projected forth through his eyes.  "Tell me what I am supposed to ask you.  Better yet, tell me what I don't know."  Dumbledore's keen blue eyes were unfathomable.  "Because all I know, sir, is that I don't know enough."

_Sorrow..._

_Such burdens for one so young..._

_Pity...  _

Harry swallowed at the feelings he saw as Dumbledore's light blue eyes peered at him over his glasses.  He didn't want _anyone's_ pity.  It was an effort to remain looking into the headmaster's eyes but part of Harry was breathlessly excited to possibly be able to find out just how it was that Dumbledore _really_ saw him; what he _really_ thought of Harry.  

Focusing on his projected image, Harry heard himself distantly speak, "I don't know what it is I _need_ to know.  I don't know what questions I need to ask."  He was thinking out loud and part of him knew he should be asking a question here but...the right question was escaping him. 

"You should know, Harry," Dumbledore said in all seriousness.  "That I care about you a great deal." 

Reflexively Harry turned his head and looked away.  That wasn't what he'd been looking for.  He wasn't sure what he'd been looking for, but that wasn't it. 

"I'll do everything I can, Harry, to help you succeed and there are a great number of people who feel quite similar.  _That's_ the most important thing I'd have you know, Harry."

Harry let out a breath that he'd not known he'd been holding.  How was this supposed to help him?  He could see it now: standing in front of Voldemort and declaring, "I have people who care about me!" while Voldemort then laughed mockingly and said, "That's nice.  Perhaps they'll hold a Celebration for you someday after I kill you."   _Oh yes, this was knowledge that would certainly come in ever so handy_, Harry thought sarcastically to himself. 

_Besides_, he thought nastily, _Dumbledore only cares about you because of the prophecy_.  If the prophecy had never been made, would Dumbledore care so much about Harry?  

He heard Dumbledore move a step closer. 

"Really, Harry, not knowing what is before you and what knowledge will come in handy is not something you from which, you, exclusively suffer.  No one can truly know that.  In fact, in a way, that is where the prophecy, and what it foretells, may give you an advantage.  You--"

"It doesn't give me any sense of advantage, sir," Harry cut in tersely.  "It gives me a sense of urgency, a sense of...impending..." he didn't want to say 'doom'.  No, he _definitely_ did _not_ want to say 'doom'.  "Some...inevitable..."  The right words were not coming and the ones that were, Harry wasn't willing to accept.

Dumbledore laid a hand upon Harry's shoulder.  "You'll find that the word you choose with which to finish that sentence, Harry, will define your life until whatever it is you see as inevitable has come to pass."   

Harry felt his face scrunch up in irritation.  He didn't need some vague sort of wisdom imparted to him.  He needed clear and direct guidance.  Hell, he'd do whatever it took to get everything over with if someone would just tell him what to do.  He hated the waiting, the not knowing, the utter _helplessness_ of being unsure about what the next day would bring and the fear that, eventually, Voldemort would find a way to get to him before he could get to Voldemort.

With clenched teeth, he said, "Why don't you just tell me, _sir_, what word I _should_ use to define my life?  I'm here, aren't I?  I'm here and willing to accept I have no choice.  Just _tell me_ what I should do!" His last words rang out in the stuffy silence of the circular office and Harry felt about ready to come undone. 

"Continue to be a student, Harry," Dumbledore said after several moments.  "Continue to learn the skills one needs to go on in any life.   You _are_ who you need to be--you always have been.  But becoming the best wizard you can be will take time.  Continue teaching your fellow students how to defend themselves for each one you teach, may then teach another."  Dumbledore's hand upon Harry's shoulder squeezed tightly and his voice fell to a tremulous whisper as he then said, "Continue to be more courageous and honourable than any man I have ever met." 

Harry couldn't meet Dumbledore's eyes. 

Dumbledore's hand dropped from his shoulder and the headmaster turned back to his desk.  "If you are feeling the need to do more and become more then I am indeed to blame.  I should reassure you that you _are_ where you need to be--beyond it even.   No one can hope to know everything there is to know and in giving you specialized training, such as in Occlumency, I hoped to enable you to overcome the way your scar linked you to Voldemort and I hoped to help you feel confident.  I see we still need to work on the second, though.  Legilimency will come with practice and time but I'd say you've quite mastered Occlumency by now, yes?"

_Not always_. 

"Hmm?"

Harry realized he must have said that out loud and sighed.  "I said, not always.  I..."  Great, now he got to admit about failing to close off his mind last night.   He ran a hand through his hair and admitted, "I had a dream last night.  I...I went to talk to Ron while he was in the hospital wing last night and when I came back, I was so tired I just fell asleep without any shields up.  It..._I_ was him.  Voldemort." 

Dumbledore nodded once and said, "Go on."

Harry told Dumbledore about the dream and how he'd felt like he was performing Legilimency and extracting memories of the Burrow and the Weasleys.  He told him that he thought it was Wormtail because the perspective of the images flying at him were from about floor level and likely from Wormtail spying in his Animagus form.  He told him how he felt like he was examining every memory with Ron and how, when he concentrated on this, he felt a surge of power rush through him. 

"And, er, that's where I woke up," Harry finished awkwardly.  He felt he should probably hide the fact that Hermione had been in his dorm room and sleeping in his bed beside him.  That wasn't entirely allowed at school and he didn't think it was very relevant either.  

"I see," said Dumbledore as he seated himself once again behind his desk. "Your shields shouldn't disappear though just because you forget for one night.  The ordering of one's mind is a cumulative thing and one night's worth--although, I admit, it was a _very_ full night from what I know--should not cause your mind to be so cluttered that it is weakened.  Therefore, I'd say this seems like you just failed to secure yourself in your own mind and this allowed the connection to draw you towards it when, from what it sounds like, Voldemort was feeling especially powerful--and hateful." 

Harry sat in the wing chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. 

"I'm just going to assume Professor Snape did not tell you all about his findings last night," Dumbledore then said with a twinkle.  "He said Voldemort was pleased to find a weakness in one of your close friends.  But he also said Voldemort was most _displeased_ to find he'd not known about such an...exploitable discord--meaning Mister Weasley, who's never had the attention you all too often get, and his occasion to feel jealous of this attention.  And since you went to speak to Ronald last night, then I will assume he's told you about his condition, which unfortunately, seems to be exacerbating these emotions.  Professor Snape seemed to feel Voldemort was extremely displeased he'd not yet known about this and, with your dream last night, I think we can conclude that Peter, in his rat form, has indeed likely been using his familiarity with the Burrow to spy upon those there for Voldemort."

"We need to tell the Weasleys then, don't you think?" Harry said at once. 

"Mm, yes," Dumbledore said, nodding as he pulled out a long eagle feather quill and unrolled a parchment.  "And I daresay Alastor will be more than willing to coordinate some additional protection over there, not the least of which should be a good pair of kneazels."

Dumbledore then scratched out two quick notes and woke up a sleeping Fawkes to take them away. 

"Now then," Dumbledore said turning back to Harry after Fawkes disappeared in a burst of flame. "Back to you, Harry." 

He held up a finger and bent over his desk to scrawl out another note.  "I am giving you here, an open pass to the library's restricted section--it will help so you don't need to sneak in there.  I should also just include Miss Granger on this, I think, as she would only bother you ceaselessly with getting books on her behalf."

Dumbledore waved the parchment then to dry the ink and handed it over to Harry, saying, "There are hundreds of magical arts that can be learned and mastered.  I'm not an expert by any means in all of them but I ask that you find one--or even a few--that you wish to study and learn.  Whatever you choose, I will help you master.  Find something that draws you to it and--"

"Bloody alchemy," Harry said at once, making Dumbledore silver eyebrows rise sharply.  "If people think I've been your apprentice all along, they will expect me to know what you're known for.  I should know that."

Dumbledore frowned.  "You should choose something because _you_ want to learn it, not because you feel the need to fulfil the expectations of others."

"I _do_ want to learn this," Harry protested.  Why was Dumbledore reluctant to teach him this?   "Sna--Professor Snape told me how Voldemort uses the blood from a witch or wizard to make them into a servant and that Voldemort can then gain more power through this.  I think I should know this since Voldemort's obviously very well versed in it.  Plus, Voldemort's alive now and walking around because he took _my_ blood to give himself a body.  I think I should know just all that could mean."

Dumbledore had his head tilted to the side as he peered at Harry over his half-moon glasses.  "Let me tell you this—Lord Voldemort is first and foremost a dark sorcerer who seeks power at any and all costs.  That is why he so foolishly pushes forth into the realm of blood alchemy when it has been clear to me that he is _not_ a master of the discipline in the least."

"And so I should know this then!" Harry said.  "Why are you trying to talk me out of this?  _He_ _has my blood_!" 

"Harry--"

"What else would you have me learn?  Did you think I'd come back from the restricted section and ask to be an Animagus or something?  Like a cat or something is going to do in Voldemort..."

"It had crossed my mind," Dumbledore said meekly.  "After all, your father--"

"I'm _not_ my father!" Harry yelled louder than he'd meant to and snapped his mouth closed.  "I--I don't see how that would help.   Didn't you understand what I meant when I said I don't _know_ what I don't know?  Professor, I...you say Voldemort practices in an area of magic where he doesn't know all there is to know; an area where _you_ know things he doesn't.  Doesn't this say that _this_ is a weakness of Voldemort's?  Perhaps an _exploitable_ weakness!  If you can teach me what Voldemort _doesn't_ know, then _that_ is something in which I can feel I have an advantage; _then_ I will feel I might know something he doesn't.  Power he knows not!" Harry said with a flourish of his hand.  "You can't be sure it's not just _knowledge_, can you?"

Dumbledore had no choice but to acquiesce.   Before Harry had even left the office after convincing Dumbledore to train him in blood alchemy, Dumbledore had stipulated that before he would begin teaching anything, Harry would write an essay describing a catastrophic event entailing the use of blood alchemy from each century since the founding of Hogwarts. 

Hermione, predictably, was ecstatic to see the parchment granting her and Harry unlimited access to the restricted section. 

Gasping, Hermione lunged for the parchment and held it reverently before her.  "Oh...oh my god—Harry!" she squealed and then threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the lips. 

"Er, I take it you're excited then?" Harry said as he saw several Hufflepuffs gawk as they passed their table in the library. 

Hermione looked at him like he was the greatest thing since self-stirring cauldrons.  "Er, _yeah_!" she said so loudly Madame Pince began to head over with a scowl on her face. 

Hermione, beaming, thrust the parchment towards the disgruntled looking librarian and, after nearly a full minute of close inspection and some grumbling about indulgent headmasters, Madame Pince took the permission slip for filing.

"This is brilliant!" Hermione said excitedly, this time in a whisper as she led Harry down an aisle in her new favorite section. 

"Oh, I've been wanting to look up anything they might have the history of elves and, in particular, the events that led to their enslavement.  I was talking to Susan Bones at lunch about if she'd like to work with me on sponsoring a movement to free the elves—with her aunt as Minister, I thought she may be interested in getting more politically involved.  Didn't want to commit to anything just yet, said she'd think it over a bit.  Don't you think—"

"Hermione," Harry began tiredly. 

"Yes?  Oh—I'm sorry, of _course_ you'll help, too."

There was no getting around this, he realized, he was going to have to be the one to tell her how..._unrealistic_ her goals were.  "Hermione—listen to me."

She looked up at him expectantly.

"Um, I'm not sure how to tell you this...you know I think you're brilliant—I mean you _are_ brilliant.  The most clever person I've ever met."  She grinned at him and he smiled back weakly.  "But, er, don't you think...I mean I understand _why_ you want the elves to be free—everyone deserves to be free.  But...I'm just not sure you're going about it the best way."

Hermione was frowning.  "Well, can you think of a better way?  I'm willing to listen to suggestions."

Harry nodded.  "Well, yeah.  I mean, not an idea to free them but...an idea.   I..."  She wasn't going to like this.  "I think you might have to just take your time with this.  I really don't think the house-elves _want_ to be freed, is the thing."

Hermione looked at him disbelievingly.   "But you freed Dobby—you said he was ecstatic to be free!"

"Hermione—Dobby worked for the _Malfoys_!  Of _course_ he was ecstatic to get away from there!  They treated him like vermin—he even said so.  Listen—you, er...you really only know two elves—Dobby and Winky.  And Dobby _is_ a rather strange elf, I think, so maybe you shouldn't judge the rest on him.  I just don't think we should assume the house elves want to be free.  I don't think they even understand what that means and I doubt they'd even know what to _do_ with freedom."

Hermione was biting her lower lip and looking down, away from Harry.  She sighed heavily and crossed her arms.   "You might be right," she said, surprising Harry.  She looked up at him now with renewed determination.  "You just might be right, Harry.  I mean, why didn't I see how odd it was that none of the elves want to be free?  There might be a curse on them or something!  I should still start with looking up any historical events leading to their enslavement though—and possibly try to befriend some of the other elves.  Maybe get to know them and help them understand what freedom has to offer them?" 

Harry didn't think she quite understood what he was getting at.  He was beginning to think he might have just condemned the Hogwarts elves to a terrible fate—a very determined Hermione. 

"Oh, you're _right_, Harry!  My case will be _much_ stronger if I have actual elves that are willing to testify to their treatment and plea for their own freedom!  It may take longer, but it will be more difficult to dismiss our movement.  _Ooh_—and if I can get enough elves on board, we can even orchestrate a strike until our demands are met!" 

She beamed at him and he could only muster a weak and mournful sound from the back of his throat.  Yup, he was positive now; the elves would surely all hate him in no time.   

A few hours later, after she'd stopped rambling about her new and revised plan for house-elf rights, she'd finally managed to ask Harry just why he'd been given the unlimited pass to the restricted section. 

"Professor Dumbledore has you learning about blood alchemy now?  Oh, Harry, I'm _incredibly_ jealous!   I want to learn everything you do.  Maybe you can help me finish that Blood Ward project Professor Snape assigned me.  It's due in about two months.  I've got fourteen feet of parchment so far but I doubt that's _nearly_ enough and besides, I've yet to find anything _really_ conclusive—I've always suspected anything good on the subject was locked away in here."

Harry was looking along at the spines of the books on the shelves as they walked.  "You'd best try to find anything on the topic now then, before Snape hears you've got access to here and he checks out all the books that would be helpful."

"Are you suggesting, Potter," said a sinister voice from behind them.  "That I would sabotage a student's project which I'd assigned myself?" 

Harry, silently cursing himself, turned slowly to face the smugly smiling form of Snape.  "Professor," he said with a grimace.    "Just, er, checking to see if you were listening?"

Snape just sneered.  "Undoubtedly.  Ten points from Gryffindor, Potter, for maligning my ethics as a professor."  After a moment of thought, he added, "Two points, though, for assuming correctly," and then brushed past them with a book tucked under his arm. 

"Why, _that_—" Hermione looked outraged.  "Ooh!  I'll show _him_!  Just because he took one book that—"

"Look out!" Harry yelled as a book flew out from one of the top-most shelves and headed straight at them.  He reached forth and grabbed Hermione's arm to yank her backwards out of the way of the falling book just in time before the battered brown book landed with a thud right where she'd been standing. 

"What the—" Hermione said as she bent over to pick it up.  Her mouth dropped open when she turned the book over and read the cover. 

"What is it?" Harry asked, looking over her shoulder.

He looked down at the book in her hands and saw the title: _Ancestral Alchemy_. 

"Handy, that," Harry said, nodding.    

At dinner, Hermione found a letter appearing on her plate when the tables filled with food.   To her and Harry's great astonishment (and much to Harry's relief) it was a letter from Ron.  It was rambling and even incoherent at times but the point was nonetheless clear; he was apologizing for all the things he'd said to her and never really meant to say.  Hermione had tears in her eyes as she handed it over to Harry to read and when Ron walked in about ten minutes later, she moved down and tugged Harry along so Ron could sit on Harry's other side. 

With his ears turning a bright red, Ron mumbled, "You got it then?  I wasn't sure.  I had to go down to the kitchens to get extra pumpkin juice to wash down that cack I'm taking and I ended up writing the letter down there while this one elf, Tooby, kept feeding me ice cream and more pumpkin juice.  He said he'd get you the letter straight away and took it before I could stop him.  Then he made me another sundae to eat so..._ooh_, are those chicken and ham pies?   Bung me one, Harry."

After dinner, Harry walked between Ron and Hermione on the way back to the Common Room.   He'd heard several whispers about he and Ron sitting together at lunch after their very public falling out the previous night and so, all three of them sitting together through dinner and then walking back together, felt like a silent statement of solidarity.  

The feeling had been steadily growing in Harry that he would fight like hell to keep Ron from being used against him.  If Voldemort thought he could get between Harry and his friends, he had another thing coming.   Voldemort had no _idea_ how strong a friendship could be and Harry wanted nothing more than to prove that. 

"Come on," he said to Ron as they walked in through the portrait hole.  "I've got to talk to you.  You should know what's going on.  Can you talk with both of us...you know?" he waved at him and Hermione.  "She's the cleverest one of all of us, and I think we need all the brain power we can get."

Ron nodded.    "Yeah, yeah, sure.  I mean I have to get used to it, right?  I...yeah."  He was still nodding and seemed to be psyching himself up for the task. 

As they reached their old spots by the Common Room fireplace, Ron rummaged around in his bag, pulled out two leather hipflasks and took a swig, first from one and then from the other. 

"_What_ in the world?" Hermione asked, completely bewildered. 

"Immotus Mixture," Ron said, wheezing from the taste and fanning his mouth.  Harry could smell the foul stuff from a few feet off and he felt a whole new level of appreciation for how much Ron must want to get over his problem if he was willing to drink anything that smelled _that_ bad. 

"All right?" Harry asked finally.

Ron nodded. 

Harry pulled out his wand and cast a privacy bubble around them before sitting down and announcing, "Voldemort wants to use you against me," to Ron. 

Ron promptly dropped both hipflasks and stuttered, "Wh-_what_?  You...You-_Know-Who_?"

Harry nodded.  "Voldemort."  

Ron shuddered and sank down into the armchair beside Harry, despair etched clearly across his face.   Harry then proceeded to tell Ron all about Wormtail having been at the Burrow, spying in the past, how Dumbledore had already arranged for Moody to take care of the Burrow's 'rat' problem, and about how Snape was told Ron's recent outburst seemed like a weakness that Voldemort would be trying to exploit in the near future to get to Harry. 

By the time Harry was done explaining, Ron was white as a ghost. 

"You're not alone, Ron," Hermione said.  "Voldemort won't have expected you and Harry to have made up so quickly—or even at all." 

"But..." Ron looked desperately at Harry.  "Harry...what if...what if he uses the Imperius Curse on me or something?  I can't fight that!  Remember in Moody's class?  I was skipping on every third step for a _day_ after he cursed me!"  Ron began to shake his head.  "I don't know...I mean if I'm a danger to you, then maybe we should," he swallowed loudly, "just...you know...maybe you should keep your distance from me or something."

"What?" Harry said, appalled.  "Are you mad?" 

Ron just shrugged and looked very small indeed. 

"Ron—have I not been like the most dangerous friend either of you two could have ever had? Have I not led you straight into—let's see," Harry said as he crossed one arm and tapped his chin with a finger.  "There was a giant three-headed dog..."

"You didn't know any better," Ron protested.

"A thousand year old chamber with a sixty foot Basilisk in it."

Ron shrugged, "You were saving my sister and I didn't have to see the great bloody thing."

"A forest full of Acromantulae?" Harry pressed.

Ron shivered at this.  "Okay, that one wasn't such a great adventure."

Harry nodded, adding, "Yeah, and then _last_ year, I went and led anyone who'd listen right into a trap and _I'm_ the reason you're suffering like you are now!"

"Yeah?  Well, just imagine how much worse things would be if _I_ were the one being manipulated by You-Know-Who and leading _you_ around to nearly get yourself killed!"

"Would you two _stop_?" Hermione interjected exasperatedly before Harry could think of something else.  "I mean, come one—you're arguing over which of you—" she just shook her head and looked between them.  "You two..."

"Ron," Harry said seriously.  "You never once questioned the wisdom of being my friend when it was clearly the more dangerous option."  He didn't mention the fact that questioning the wisdom of anything just wasn't Ron's thing.  "I'm not going anywhere," Harry said with finality.

The next morning, after Transfiguration and after Hermione waved him on ahead so she could discuss an assignment with Professor McGonagall, Susan Bones came up beside Harry and asked, "Hey, Harry, can I talk to you?" 

"Sure," Harry said as he they left the classroom.  "Er, is this about Hermione asking you about the house-elf stuff?  'Cause I think I managed to get her to back off a bit.  Well, not _totally_, she's a bit mad on it really."

Susan laughed.  "No...but that _is_ good to hear.   I mean, who's ever heard of house-elf rights?  No—I was wondering when you planned on getting the DA together this term?   If you have time, that is...I know you must be busy with all...all...er, I mean..." she trailed off looking very sorry for even bringing anything up at all. 

"It's okay," Harry said, amused by her discomfort.  "We'll still do the DA."

"Good," she said, nodding.  "And I'm sorry about...oh—just how do you _handle_ everyone watching you?!  It's been one day since it was announced my aunt is Minister and I'm ready to go _mad_!" 

Harry had to laugh at her outburst.  "Well, it's actually even worse if everyone is talking about you being mad and then watching you so closely for signs of madness that it actually drives you mad.  But yeah, it's mad." 

Susan looked disappointed.  "Oh, you're _used_ to it—I don't know how you ever learned to put up with it, though."

Harry leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Hermione's been chanting in my ear, 'just ignore it' since about first year.  It's second nature by now." 

Thankfully, it _was_ second nature by now, because since the most recent article on him, everyone wanted to keep their eye on Harry Potter.  He wasn't sure what they thought they'd miss if they looked away, maybe they thought he was going to suddenly grow a foot taller, don armour and call forth an army of dragons to head out after Voldemort.  Either that, or they were waiting for him to crack under the pressure, which, given the new fervour with which Colin was snapping away pictures of him, might just be sooner than most would expect. 

The awed attention he was getting at least meant that when Harry stepped into class to teach the third years Defense, they all fell silent without a word of prompting.   It was, in all truth, a little unnerving. 

"The next two weeks, as I promised we'd do after Christmas holidays, we'll be studying Dementors.  It's an extended subject because next week will be all practical where you face down a simulated Dementor." 

Harry saw Dennis Creevey begin to sneak a camera out of his bag on the floor and, silently, Harry summoned it straight up to the front of the class.  Snatching it in mid-air, he opened the drawer of the desk and dropped it in. 

"As I was saying then," he said, continuing without missing a beat.  He spent the class period describing Dementors to the class and giving them chilling details of how it felt to be near one. 

Harry noticed that even the few Slytherin boys, who usually made a of point of acting very disinterested in his lectures, were attentive and even respectful in their own unique ways.  When the bell to end class rang and he'd still not given the assignment, no one left until he'd finished saying, "By the end of the week, your assignment is an essay on possible ways to destroy a Dementor.  There is no known way and I want you to theorise how it might be done.  Er, so it'll be marked on originality and sound reasoning." 

Harry packed up his things as the third years were filing out.  He had taken a few liberties with various assignments before but none like this.  He freely admitted (to himself anyway) that he was hoping to get some ideas from even just one student's essay.  Somewhere in this world, he believed, there _had_ to exist a way to destroy anything that was ever created—including the Dementors. 

* * *

REMINDER: You can find chapter files, a discussion forum, and other dedicated and outrageously Potter-obsessed readers at my Yahoo group for this fic. There is a link on my bio page to the group. The Yahoo group name is: HPAoF. Cheers! 

Oh, oh!!  And I finally got the song file from Chapter 18 to load.  It's in the group's File section. 

* * *


	51. Chapter 54 Mad Hats and Headcases

* * *

**Chapter 54.  Mad Hats and Headcases**

"Hello?" Hermione said uncertainly. 

The Sorting Hat was upon her head and still so large it fell down past her eyes.  If she hadn't just been left all alone in Professor Dumbledore's office, she'd feel awfully silly right now with how she must look. 

"You'd look awfully silly, too," the Hat spoke inside her head, making her jump.

"Oh!  Oh," she laughed out loud.  "You can read my thoughts, right?" 

"Mmm," was the only amused answer she got from the Hat.

Hermione fumbled to unroll a piece of parchment upon which she'd written some questions for the Hat.  She wanted to make sure she didn't forget anything and, if need be, had something with which to take notes. 

"So," the Hat spoke, startling her.  "You want to know if all Slytherins are purebloods, eh?  You also crave to know what I've all said to your friend, Harry Potter, when he was revealed to be the Lead Light.  You'd like to know just how I work and how I was made and--my, my, you _do_ seem to have ever so many questions flying about your mind."

Immediately taken off guard, Hermione felt the Hat was very rude indeed to assume she was about to ask all these questions.  Just because she _wanted_ to, didn't mean she would. 

"Oh, yes, I'm sure you think me quite presumptuous for discerning your motives and thoughts; to you, I'm positively unctuous!  So, then—what will it be?  Are you going to let me know you think I'm rude or tell me to just get on with the answers before I grow crude?  I _was_ in the middle of a nap, you know, and the sooner I can answer your niggling questions that lay upon you lap, the sooner I can get back to my kip."

"Right," Hermione said carefully.  _What a know-it-all_, she thought to herself as she prepared to ask her first question. 

"Nope."

"What?" she asked.  _Bugger, the Hat heard me_. 

"Well, yes, that too," the Hat said smartly.  "But I meant no, not all those placed into Slytherin house are purebloods.  That _was_ your first question, unless you meant to stall."  Before Hermione could ask for more in the way of an explanation, the Hat expounded, "I sort using virtues of character first and ancestry second, if at all.  You'd be surprised how very many come here and, their true ancestry, do not recall."

"What?"  The Hat was speaking in a smug and singsong voice that seemed to taunt Hermione with all it knew—and it knew a lot; she had no doubt.  Here she was, one of the few people who she knew to have taken the Hat's warnings to heart and who was consciously persisting to help cross the boundaries of the houses.  Wasn't the Hat the least bit grateful? 

The Hat laughed.  "A hat can't be grateful, you silly girl." 

Hermione fumed at being called 'silly'.  "Well, most hats aren't snarky and smug or poking around inside one's head now, are they?!" she snapped back.

The Hat tsked.  "Oh dear me, I did touch a nerve, didn't I?"

"Can I get on with my questions?" Hermione said curtly.  She wanted to get down the exact science of just how students were sorted.

"But you've already been given the answer," the Hat said tiredly.  "I tell you all plain and clear what qualities shall be found in those of each house every year.  What more can you ask to know?"

"You told us Slytherin prized only those pure of ancestry!" Hermione said, pushing the hat back so she could properly see her notes in front of her.  "Right here!  Two years ago!  You said—"

"I know what I said and it's true, he _did_ prize those students dearly.  But, where Slytherin resides now, he's in no position to force _me_ to Sort by _his_ rules, _clearly_!  I wasn't given a brain just to carry out orders like a foot soldier and to sift through without subjectivity.  I have facts and I have knowledge—two things that may be mundane if not for the fact that I also have a _brain_. 

"And a purpose!  I'm bound to my duty; to protect the vision of the school upon which it was founded.  I do the bidding of the one who made me.  I've watched and learned as each year's gone by.  Slytherin House would be a very small--thought fine--house indeed if all who called it home had to trace an ancestry free of muggles, immemorial through time."

"So there could even be _muggleborns_ in Slytherin!" Hermione said under her breath as she made a note.  

"Indeed," conceded the Hat.  "So long as their ambition for power and success is foremost in their hearts and spine; a Slytherin is never one who hasn't _chosen_ to be a Slytherin.  Never, since the tradition has started, has a student been Sorted and felt, that from where they truly belonged, they'd been parted."

Hermione was scratching with her quill, taking notes verbatim.  "And how—"

"I have no idea how I was made, as at the time, I wasn't made."

Hermione's shoulders slumped in disappointment. 

"However," the Hat said, "I do have the memory from when I was still being made.  Would you care to see?"

Hermione had barely realized she was going to agree when she felt the Hat tighten about her brow, slip down over her eyes and then, suddenly, with a rushing sound, a bright silver light appeared before her eyes.  She then saw a tiny window in the brim of the Hat appear and open up, pouring out light and, as she tried to peer into the light, she felt herself pitch headfirst through the opening, into a whirl of light and shadow. 

She felt her feet hit solid ground, and stood, shaking, as the light and shadows resolved into shapes around her. 

She knew immediately she was in Hogwarts.  This circular room she was now in, was the very same room she had just, apparently, left.  It was Headmaster Dumbledore's office—but no—wait, it wasn't.  There were no portraits of old headmasters snoozing on the walls.  There were no comfortable wing back chairs in which she knew she'd just been seated.  

"You're positive this shall work?" a lilting female voice called out, making Hermione whirl. 

There, across the room, beside a tall window that showed a bright and sunny summer day outside, stood a very tall, silver-haired and prim looking woman who was warily facing a man who stood with a sword drawn that was now pointing at the floor. 

Hermione let out a gasp reflexively upon seeing them but then, as she said, "I'm sorry!" and expected them to turn to see her there, she was baffled when they seemed to be completely ignorant of her presence. 

The man, a very tall, thin, wearied-looking wizard with grey hair that was cut very short, smiled disarmingly as he raised his sword to the woman's temple.  "Shant hurt a bit," he said.  "Unless you sneeze.  Now hold still—"

"No!" Hermione cried out.  She wasn't sure what was happening but a sword to the head couldn't be a good thing.  "Stop right there!" she said warningly although her voice shook as she made to draw her wand. 

But the strangely familiar man and woman paid her no heed.   The tip of the sword was now touching the temple of the woman and, from it, a silvery wisp clung to the sword tip and was now being pulled away from her head. 

Hermione recalled it was just like Professor Dumbledore had done when he withdrew his memory of Professor Trelawney giving the prophecy.  This man was removing a thought from the woman's mind with his—Hermione gasped again.  The sword!  He was using his sword just like a wizard or witch would use a wand and it was _exactly _like the sword she'd seen in Harry's hands! 

She gasped again and covered her mouth as she realized it could be none other than Godric Gryffindor himself holding his very own sword and using it like a wand to withdraw memories from, and Hermione was sure now from the pictures in _Hogwarts: A History_, Rowena Ravenclaw.  

As the silver strand slipped from her temple, Gryffindor swung the sword over to point down into what appeared to be a much younger and less ragged looking Sorting Hat.  Hermione stepped closer, her hands still covering her mouth in awe, as she watched the silver flow from the sword like liquid mercury into the hat. 

"That's you done," the man announced. 

"And Helga's done," the woman said as she rubbed at her temple and watched, fascinated, the sword dip in and stir the insides of the hat.  "You're positive this shall work?"  She didn't sound convinced. 

"The portraits were a success, were they not?" he said as he moved gingerly to seat himself in a stiff-backed chair.  

"Perhaps we should engage them to do our bidding?" she suggested.  "Mm, I suspect Helga's still partial to the idea of Spectral Court.  Hmm, I always did think it'd be good to remain as a ghost."

Gryffindor shook his head as he leaned back.  "No, no, I am certain it is far wiser for _one_ single entity to be used.   If we had four portraits scattered about the castle then each would have a different view of the school's needs.  Ghosts—I think would lend themselves too prone to bias.  No, one item that oversees and hears all—that is what we need; one item that is enchanted and can apply our wishes with adaptable intelligence.  Besides, we have no portrait of Salazar.  He refused to relinquish any part of himself for such a _frivolity_.  Not even a thought...but I understand, to him, they _are_ quite rare."

Ravenclaw gave him a disproving look and asked, "How will his house persist if we cannot have his thoughts to define his students?"

"Did I ask you only for thoughts on your students?  No—I asked for your thoughts on each of the four houses we've established.  The thoughts from the three of us will have to suffice."

"It doesn't seem fair," she said musingly. 

Gryffindor snorted.  "Is it fair he left us to continue without him?  If all were fair we'd have done out with his house by now.  He's not here and he _claims_ he's left the means to perpetuate his teachings here but we've seen no evidence of that.   It's been nigh a score since his face was seen near here!  If anything, we're doing a favour of a deed by keeping the house on at all!  Half the lot _you'd_ never take and, while a fair few have courage in spades, they lack the temperance of honour that makes bravery so admirable a virtue and so," he laughed, "_I_ surely do not want that sort.  Helga—her lot would suffer if made to live and learn with the cutthroats Salazar favoured.  If his sort are to be taught here, the house must remain.  It's either that or let the lot fend for themselves." 

"I don't fancy that," Ravenclaw muttered with a dark look. 

Hermione, who'd crept nearer without knowing to get a closer look at the Hat, was fairly certain that this was what Harry had described when he'd been in a pensieve and when Tom Riddle's diary had drawn him into a memory.  She was in a memory that the Hat was showing her.  The fact that she was standing just a few feet away from two of the very founders of Hogwarts made her nearly quake with awe and excitement.  She'd read so _very_ much about them. 

A bell tolled from somewhere outside the open window and she saw Lady Ravenclaw sigh and briefly lay a hand upon the broad and leather clad shoulders of Gryffindor saying, "I still don't understand how such a thing shall endure, but I do suspect you're keeping something from me.  Lucky for you, Godric, I trust you with my life and the future of this school.  When it comes to that, I know you care."  She then turned and swiftly glided from the room. 

Hermione peered ever closer at the worn looking wizard who was the legendary founder of her house.  She watched as Godric Gryffindor sat in his chair, his hand still gripping the hilt of his silver, ruby-encrusted sword as he peered off into the distance.  "_Mihi cura futuri_," he mumbled as be leaned forward over his hat. 

Creaking with age, he stood back up so as to use his long sword to stir the hat's contents.  Hermione was close enough to see the silvery mist of a liquid swirl about.   With care, he touched the tip of the sword to his own temple and drew out a long silvery strand of thought, humming along to the far away notes of a familiar high-pitched song.  As before, he dropped it down into the hat and swirled.  "_Concordia_!" he intoned as a silver glow radiated down his sword and then into the hat.  The flash of silver burst and was then gone, leaving the hat sitting there, upside down and appearing to be, all in all, quite empty. 

The dark, empty shadows of the hat then whirled and suddenly, everything went dark as Hermione felt her stomach flipping and churning.  She tried to blink but felt something against her eyes and, upon reaching a hand up to feel about her head, she felt the Sorting Hat. 

Whipping it off her head, she looked about breathlessly.  The Headmasters were snoozing in their portraits, Fawkes was preening the feathers beneath one wing as he sat upon his perch and a lone silver instrument upon a spindle-legged table sputtered and puffed softly in the otherwise empty office.   The Sorting Hat, now lifeless and looking as patched, ragged and frayed as ever, lay draped over the arm of her chair; it was now emanating a slight snoring sound and seemed to be rising and falling with each snore. 

Her mind awhirl with many new questions, Hermione hastily gathered her stuff and tore out of the office.  She was off to the library. 

"You're serious about this?" Ron said with a grimace. 

Harry nodded.  "Yeah, it was the first thing Dumbledore had me do this summer.  It really helps.  It's actually easy.  Just, you know, make up lists and stuff."

Since Dumbledore had told Ron that learning to control his now ingrained thoughts from dominating his mind would be an awful lot like learning to overcome the control a Boggart has on one's mind, Harry explained to Ron that what a Boggart was really doing was a sort of Legilimency and perhaps learning some basic Occlumency could help Ron control his thoughts.  Ron had been immediately wary of having to learn Occlumency, which he knew from Harry's experience, had been a long and arduous skill to learn. 

"You don't need to have a complete and total occlusion of your mind," Harry said.  "Remember how I explained in the DA about linking the memories a Dementor makes you relive to something else that helps fuel hope and your Patronus?  It's like that.  You'll need to order your thoughts about...well, everything."  He grimaced.  "But then when it comes to the thoughts that kind of get stuck on replay, you need to kind of rewire them to something else that gets you off that train of thought.  Break that loop, so to speak.  You get me?"

Ron looked sceptical.  "Er..."

Harry pushed open the door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office where he'd suggested they try to work.  As it was a Saturday, he felt it was a sure bet to be free of any lingering or lurking Snape.   "Here," he said as they entered the office and made themselves at home.  "Just start with a scrap of parchment.  Make a list.  Something easy to start with—'things you like' perhaps.  Then move on from there.  You'll probably need to do 'things about me that brass you off' eventually and some lists about Hermione, too."

"Things I like..." Ron mused.  "You mean like food?  I love bacon.  And puddings.  And treacle tart, bangers and mash--any kind of bangers, really."

Harry rolled his eyes as he took the seat behind the desk.  "Ron, the point isn't to sort out your stomach, but your mind.  It might help to stick to thoughts and not go off on food.  Unless that really _is_ all you think about?"

Ron looked almost affronted.  "A mind will go mad if it ain't got food for fuel!  Whaddya have there?" he asked, nodding at the thick wad of scrolls Harry pulled from his bag. 

"Essays to mark from the third years and then I have a _beast_ of an essay for Dumbledore to research, those Charms theorems still to do, a weekly report to get out to McGonagall and," Harry sighed, "I also need to meet Padma after dinner tonight in the library for our impending Potions disaster--I mean class."  

Ron whistled and made a face that said he was clearly happy he still had things like Herbology and Divination.

"And mind you," Harry added, "this is a week where not much has happened in the terms of the war.  Everyone's busy with all the changes at the Ministry.  Remus—I haven't heard from him once.  Hermione heard more from her parents about Remus' doings then most anyone."  It because both Remus and Moody had been so busy with the changing administration of the Ministry, that neither had been able to report more than a brief, 'everything's fine' or even make the trip to Hogwarts for a weekly meeting of the Inner Council.  

It felt, to Harry, like a dynamic time where things were shifting about and strategies being adjusted.  He had no doubt Voldemort was off in his little lair, cursing at anyone who neared him and plotting about something.  But now, Harry felt he was plotting just as much. 

Harry planned to help Ron get a handle on the scars left by the brain attack.  Harry planned to do twice the amount of research Dumbledore had assigned for Harry's introduction to Blood Alchemy (he wanted there to be no possible excuse for this training to be delayed).  He planned to build and improve his skills as a Metamorphamagus.  He planned to master the art of Legilimency and really, he thought this was one of the most exciting things he planned.  He'd already seemed to slip by Dumbledore's defenses once and, as long as the headmaster thought Harry was still stuck on deciding upon a projection, Harry felt Dumbledore would never suspect Harry's attempts to repeat this small success. 

"Oy," Ron asked as he rummaged in his bag.  "What report is due for McGonagall?  I don't recall that.  Did I miss it?"  He cursed.  "I probably did.  If she wasn't so bloody boring I might be able to stay awake in there.  What does she expect though in a class at eight o'clock when any _decent_ fool is still in bed?"

"Er, no," Harry said as he scratched behind his ear.  "It's a report she has just me doing."  Ron didn't yet know about Harry's Metamorphmagus training and that fact suddenly made Harry hope this revelation wouldn't inflame Ron's jealousy or envy.  Again.  "You, er, you know how my dad was an Animagus?"

Ron nodded slowly, confused.

Harry shifted as he unrolled the third years' essays.  "Well, it seems I have some skill at self-transfiguration, too."

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed in awe.  "_You're an Animagus, too!?"_

"No, no," Harry protested.  "Nothing like that."  He grimaced. "I'd probably be something like a great bloody snake if I were.  Nah, I can do some stuff like Tonks--as a Metamorphmagus."

Ron's mouth dropped open again and worked soundlessly. 

"None of the really cool stuff yet," Harry hurried to explain.  "Just basic hex reversals without a wand or spell.  It's helped in Healing, too.  I can heal myself with it a bit.  All the stuff we're working on now in Transfiguration--the spells to do human transfiguration--I've gone trhough most of them and all those for self-transfiguration over holiday.  McGonagall's got me working on my morphing skills instead now and I have to give her a weekly report with the progress, exercises and training I do for it."

"You spent your entire holiday break studying _Transfiguration_ of all things," Ron said with disbelief. 

"It's a whole lot easier when Moody's teaching half of it under the pretext of stealth and disguise tactics," Harry said with a shrug.  "And it wasn't my _whole_ holiday.  I had plenty of time for--well, for other stuff," he finished evasively as Ron turned a bit green.  "But once I realised I'd be able to do the things Tonks does, it seemed a lot more exciting."

"Oh!" Ron said with a wicked grin.  "Can you do a Snape face yet?  That was best when Tonks would do that one!  Go on--lemme see!"

Harry laughed.  "I'm not very good with changing from my normal state to--"

"Oh go on!" Ron urged, grinning. 

Laughing, Harry leaned back, closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.  Ron, though, kept urging him to hurry up and get on with on it.  "Ron!  I can't do anything if you don't let me concentrate!  I haven't done anything this hard before." 

Ron, chastised, quieted down and watched with rapt attention and Harry screwed up his face once more and attempted to morph.  After several minutes where Harry did a fine job of looking extremely constipated, he let out his breath and said, "Anything?" 

Ron, disappointed, shook his head.  "Nothing, mate.  But you might be a bit greasier." 

Harry scoffed and chucked the nearest book at Ron's head.  It felt good to be laughing with Ron, Harry thought for about the twelfth time this week.  He hadn't realized how much fun he used to have when they were just together.  As Harry worked though marking essays (which were woefully lacking in any original insight on how to vanquish Dementors), he barely felt like it was even work what with Ron's comments every other minute making him laugh. 

"Ooh! Here's a short list, Harry—'Reasons I love Divination'!  One—Lavender always talks about Uranus, two—incense makes you stoned, three—who doesn't love to dream up twelve thousand ways to die?"

Harry laughed yet again and then said, "There you go, Ron.  Make a list of ways you'd hate to die.  It's probably the same as half the predictions you've made for Divination."  Ron made a face at Harry.  "What?  I've made that list.  Don't knock it.  I had a list of the best ways to go and the worst.  It was a tough one."  Ron still looked like he didn't believe Harry.  "It was!  At first I had the Killing Curse down as one of the best ways--I mean it's instantaneous and you don't even have time to feel a thing.  But, on the other hand, it's instantaneous.  You don't get a chance to get in a last word or anything.  I think I finally decided the idea of being caught unawares was worse than having death be painless and moved it over to the 'worse' list."

"What was the worst way?" Ron asked warily. 

"Death by having your flesh gnawed away," Harry said definitively.  "You know, like say you're trapped under a tree and can't move for _weeks_ and so, flobberworms decide to slowly gnaw away at you while you're still alive.  Starting at your toes." 

Ron shivered.  "_That_ is utterly demented," he said disgustedly.  "Spiders would be worse.  They've got all those--" he shuddered again, "--_legs_!" 

Harry just nodded.  "I decided drowning would be a rotten way to go, too.  Just being trapped and suffocating without any air to breathe.  I was bad enough when I was underwater and the gillyweed started to wear off--Ron, what's the matter?"

Ron had gone pale and had wrapped his arms around himself as if he were freezing.  "S-stop--just stop," he said haltingly.

Harry wasn't sure what to do or what he'd said.  

Ron shuddered yet again and, looking highly embarrassed, said, "Just don't mention...suffocating." 

Harry nodded, understanding.  "Okay, but, er, if it's a touchy subject, I suggest you definitely do that list then.  Anything that sneaks up on you like me mentioning..._that_, needs to be sorted out."

Ron nodded grimly and, with renewed focus, returned to making lists that Harry suggested.   Harry felt rather proud of the way Ron took to it after he got going.  It hadn't been easy when Harry had first started, as he hated having to admit so many things he'd rather ignore about himself.  But, with Ron, Harry imagined it was even more difficult as his fears and paranoia were distorted irrationally, obscuring the truth from even himself. 

After a hurried dinner amidst the now-standard level of gossip and whispers that followed Harry wherever he went, he left Ron with the Gryffindor Quidditch playbook and headed off to meet Padma in the library.  As he walked, Harry wondered where Hermione had gone off to all day.  He knew she'd arranged to go to Dumbledore's office earlier to pick the brains from the Sorting Hat but he'd not seen her since.  He suspected he'd find her right where she usually disappeared to: the library. 

When Harry entered the library, he was nearly bowled over by a furious looking Madame Pince who was obviously off to shush some scandalous students who had dared to either carry on a conversation or—shock of all shocks—use her precious books for their own nefarious purposes—such as reading. 

Harry just shook his head as he avoided her and turned down the first aisle he could to search out either Hermione or Padma or both.   He'd gone up and down several aisles before nearly being run over by the mad librarian again. 

"The _nerve_ of some students!  _Outrageous_!" she was muttering under breath as she stormed past. 

Harry, with a sudden idea where he might find Hermione, followed Madame Pince as she wove between several stacks of ancient books and came out at one end of the restricted section where there was now a teetering pile of books. 

"These are _not_ some disposable old scraps of parchment!" she grumbled as she took an armful of books off the pile and stalked back to her counter with them.   "Should be treated with _care_ and not just tossed aside like shoddy sweets wrappers!"   Harry could swear he saw her almost soothingly stroke the cover of the books she picked up, trying to assuage them of their heinous mistreatment. 

"Hermione?" Harry called out in a whisper after Pince had left. 

He stepped around the now slightly shorter teetering pile of books and unhooked the rope barrier to let himself into the restricted section. 

"Hermione?" he called again in a whisper.  Nothing.  He could, however, hear books being slid on and off of shelves and the rustle of several pages quickly being turned.  He followed the sound until he came to the back-most row and there he saw her. 

Hermione was kneeling right in the middle of the aisle upon the floor, partially hidden behind a growing pile of books.  He walked towards her, amusedly observing her mutter at the book in her hands, close it with a snap and then hastily shove it back into its place on the shelf before yanking out the next book off the shelf. 

Her hair was pinned up in a way that indicated she was in a determined mood and didn't even have the time or patience to be bothered by stray strands of hair.  She didn't notice as he stood right behind her and watched her fail to find whatever she was seeking in yet another book.  She still didn't notice as he dropped his own rucksack to the floor quietly and then kneeled behind her.   She did, however, respond with a startled gasp as he leaned forward, catching the back of her neck, just behind her left ear, with his mouth.  His hands slid around her waist and pulled her back against him. 

"Har-_ry_!" she said as she tried to shake him off and turn around at the same time.  "Harry, I—"

Her words were lost in a muffled jumble as Harry caught her mouth with his and suddenly he became very aware of just how long it'd been since he'd kissed her breathless.  (Days, at least.  Felt more like months.)   If he were pressed to admit it, Harry just might admit he had a bit of a fetish for how Hermione looked when she was all frazzled with her attention attuned to something all innocent and academic.  Although, now that he thought about it, that really paled in comparison to how hot she made him when her mind was attuned to things _not_ so innocent or academic. 

_New aim to add to my list of plans: secure more private time with Hermione_, Harry thought to himself as he felt all sorts of body parts second that idea.  

Finally, she managed to break free from his mouth and, although looking a bit dazed, she quickly refocused on their surroundings and crossly scolded him in a frantic whisper, "Harry!  What do you think you're doing?!  Trying to get us kicked out here?   Madwoman Pince has been in and out of here all afternoon and on my case!  Bloody woman, I swear!  Oh, she'd just love to have a reason to kick me out of here."

Harry's eyes widened as Hermione swore.  _Most un-Hermione-like_, he thought as he slowly backed away. 

Hermione surveyed the small explosion of books that seemed to surround her and then lighted on Harry as she rushed out, "Oh, you'll never believe what I found out!  Harry—the sword—_Gryffindor's_ sword?  It's a wand!   You can use it like a wand!  I saw him today!  And Rowena Ravenclaw, too!  Oh, the Sorting Hat—you were _right_—it's brilliant!"  She scowled.  "_But rude!_  Oh, I do hope it will show me more, but it showed me and there was the sword and he used it to pull thoughts from Ravenclaw's head and _oh_!  Then he used it to cast a spell and I've been through _every_ book on magical sources and—"

"Hermione," Harry tried to interject before she began to positively levitate with excitement or something. 

"There's like, _nothing_ on it!" she said with disgust.  "Nothing but wands and even _that's_ limited.  But it _has_ to be possible!  There's so little of _anything_ from the founders' era—for all I know—"

"Hermione," Harry said, this time chancing to grasp her by the shoulders. 

She only looked into his eyes with a more intense fervour.  "Harry—it was _incredible_.  Oh, the _detail_!  I was _right there_!  And with Godric Gryffindor and Ravenclaw themselves!!" 

_Well_, Harry thought, _that was it.  She'd gone around the bend_.  _And such a clever, nice girl.  Pity_. 

"I saw a memory, Harry.  Like a pensieve.  Or like you described Riddle showed you in the diary.  The Hat showed me.  The Sorting Hat was able to show me a memory!"

"Ah," Harry said with relief.  "So you don't _really_ think you saw two, thousand year old founders wandering about?"   _Thank god_. 

Hermione went on to explain in full (and now coherent) detail of her adventure with the Hat while Harry sat back and listened. 

"And you know what else Gryffindor said, Harry? He said '_mihi cura futuri'_; 'my care is for the future.'  I looked it up.   And then he bound his own memory into his hat and that had to be the one the Hat showed me.  The Hat is meant to help the school.  It is its duty to guide the school.  So we should take its advice even more—"

"Hold on," Harry interrupted.  "I thought you said it was bound to its duty; to do the bidding of the one who made it?  To protect the _vision_ upon which the school was founded?"  Harry had actually been paying quite close attention to Hermione's account with the Hat.  After all, he had more than just a passing knowledge of the Hat's abilities and the sword of which she spoke. 

Hermione nodded; her brow furrowed. 

"That's not the same as protecting the school," Harry said as he recalled the Hat's words on the night he'd been named Lead Light.  "I clearly recall the Hat claiming it was bound to...well, to help me."  He quickly added, "But I don't think it meant _me_, I think it meant the Order." 

Suddenly realizing they were in the very public library of Hogwarts, Harry looked about before leaning back in towards Hermione and saying, "Hermione, I don't think the Hat is only on about doing good for the school.   I think, and maybe I'm wrong, but didn't the Hat's song, the one it sang to the Order that night, didn't it sound more like Gryffindor left the Hat to do more than just sort students once a year?  I mean, it was like the whole need to use the Hat to Sort the students was almost a ruse to keep the Hat around for something else altogether." 

Hermione studied his face as she thought furiously.  "You mean the Order?"  She began to nod.  "Dumbledore did say the Hat was the 'head' of the Order, remember?"  She let out a strangled cry of frustration. 

"Hermione," Harry said calmly.  "Why didn't just ask the Hat to clarify?  What did you do—run out of there as soon as you had a head full of things to look up?  It doesn't even sound like you're sure what you're trying to uncover..." Harry trailed off at the guilty look that had crossed her face. 

Hermione crossed her arms defensively.  "I don't like asking the Hat questions," she pouted.

Harry raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"It's such an insufferable know-it-all," she mumbled. 

Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing.  She pouted even more at what must have been very poorly concealed amusement on Harry's face.  "Oh, don't be like that," he said and pulled her towards him. 

She scooted nearer and let him hold her to him and he let the grin break out upon his face. 

"It doesn't even let me think through my own thoughts so I could decide what to say.  It's frustrating.  _Flustering_!" she said into his chest.  She sat up then.  "I was hoping to find any books written by Gryffindor or about him.  I wanted to learn about the sword and how it could work like a wand.  _You_ need to know that."

He quite agreed and had already made a note in his mind to look into it himself.

"I wanted to learn how thoughts are stored in a pensieve—the Hat _must_ have worked like a pensieve at once.  I did find out the pensieve was credited as being invented by one of Gryffindor's daughters, I believe, but that wasn't until after Gryffindor had been dead for several decades!"  She sighed heavily and Harry thought she looked extremely weary.  "You're right.  I wasn't very focused when I rushed in here to the library.  Look how many books I've tore through," she said gesturing about. 

Harry nodded.  "Right.  You went to the Sorting Hat to find out if Slytherins were really all purebloods.  Remember?  We were wondering why Tracey didn't return school this term."

"Right," she said.  "They're not."

Harry smiled.  "Told you so.  Listen," he said slowly.  "I can't believe I might actually be the one to say this, but perhaps you could have just asked Snape?  He might have answered you.  Even McGonagall might have just told you this."

Hermione's jaw was hanging open.  "Harry!  You're the one who suggested I go talk to the Sorting Hat!"

Harry grimaced.  "Yeah, but I didn't realize one talk with the Hat would cause you to go spare with the knowledge that there were so many things out there you didn't know anything about." 

After helping Hermione direct all the books back to their shelves, Harry took a look at his watch and knew he was now late to meet Padma.  "Right, I need to get moving to work on Potions.  We're one of the two presenting next week.  Although, _how_ just two of us will manage to give a four-person presentation just hasn't been quite worked out yet." 

Hermione looked ready to volunteer her help but Harry turned her around and steered her towards the exit.  "No, you've been in here all day.  You missed dinner completely."

"But—"

"Nope.  Unless you've gone primal, I've heard your stomach growl at least twice.  Hey—if you head down to the kitchens for a bite, you can make house-elf friends," he reminded her tantalisingly. 

This served to make her quite amenable to the idea of heading off to the kitchens and as Harry watched her go, he thought, _those elves are so going to spell my pants with Shrivelling Hexes_.

After Harry found Padma, he realized he had merely just traded in one frantic and nerve-wracked woman for another.    Last term, each of the four members of their group in Potions had worked on a separate portion of their term project and now, since Tracey was no longer at school and Millicent Bulstrode had been so inconveniently moved from their group (and oh so unkindly refused to offer up any of the work she'd done), Harry and Padma were being forced to make up half of their impending presentation in a mere few days. 

Padma wasn't coping well with the stress.  She was alternately disgruntled about having to do the work of two people and stressed at the fact that their presentation was the first to be given.  Live.  To the whole class.  And Snape.  Harry had lost track of the number of times she'd charmed her nails longer just so she could chew them off again. 

It didn't help that Mandy Brocklehurst, who seemed to have an endless supply of assorted sugar quills that she seemed to enjoy more if she licked rather than sucked, kept stopping by to 'take a break'.    Judging by the way Padma kept getting more and more annoyed each time she stopped by, however, Harry had to guess that Mandy rarely ever decided to take a break by chatting with Padma. 

"Harry," Padma said, leaning across the table to cut off Mandy's obscene ministrations to her glistening cherry-red sugar quill.  "See this?  We have to present at least two alternative pathways that would be neutralized by the antidote.   I still think the enteric is the one to demonstrate live."

Harry paused in the middle of the word he was writing.  "What?  What do you mean, _'demonstrate live'_?"

Padma attempted to look innocent and businesslike.  "Well, there exists a standard antidote already and we've just come up with an alternate.  It makes sense that we're expected to demonstrate our alternate's efficacy.  We'll have the other antidote on hand in case ours fails."

"You mean like pick a handy volunteer from the class audience?" Harry asked hopefully with a wan smile.

She didn't.  So, that night Harry had yet another thing to fret about before he could fall asleep.  He knew she was right.  He knew that Snape would settle for no less than a live demonstration of their potions and if the presentation completely failed to involve poisoning Harry in some way, it was a sure bet that Snape would likely dock points just on principle.  

As he blearily wrote in his journal, he also began to muse about what Hermione had said about seeing Gryffindor use his sword like a wand.   _Does this mean I technically have two wands?_   He knew this wasn't even legal.  _Does this mean I have one...wand-like thing that doesn't share a core with Voldemort's?_ 

He recalled the two times the sword had appeared, for all intents unbidden, in his had and, at these times it seemed to have replaced his wand that he'd been holding.  Was the sword in his wand and not actually within him as Dumbledore had suggested?  Maybe the sword simply had the ability to merge with a wand and then be used both as a sword and as a wand?

With his curtains pulled shut tight and the sound of his dorm mates' snoring cut off by a Silencing Spell, Harry pulled out his wand and held it appraisingly in his hand.   It didn't feel heavy enough to contain a sword.  He thrust it out and waved it in a circle, almost expecting the sword to appear.  It didn't; but he did get a small spray of golden sparks lazily trailing out of it.  He'd have to add this to his list of things to work on.  

With a last thought that he wished the Sorting Hat had shown him exactly how the sword could be used, he drifted off to sleep as the faint sound of phoenix song rose from within.

Four days later and after reaching the point where he barely cared anymore about his Potions presentation, just so long as it was over with, Harry found himself casting numerous Display Charms onto a blank screen behind Padma as she orated their presentation.  With every new display, they neared the dreaded end where Harry was then supposed to be their 'test subject' for their synthesized poison antidote. 

It was only a mild poison that created a toxic build-up of selectively bound free protein in the lower intestine and, if left unneutralized, would cause an uncomfortable and prolonged bout of vomiting up live salmons. 

"As you can clearly see," Padma lectured, "the binding half of any ribosylating toxin shall be cleaved by our antidote whether it's already attached, free, or even bound to a target protein.   We will now demonstrate the efficacy of this mode of inactivation.  Harry?"

But Snape, likely disappointed he didn't get to force Harry to be the test subject since he'd already volunteered, wanted to torture Harry at least a little bit before letting him get on with being poisoned.  "Potter, answer me this—from which ingredient does your antidote get its cleaving ability?"

"Kelpie mane."  _That was easy_. 

Snape crossed his arms and stepped menacingly towards the front of the class.  "Adsorbing factor remediation?"

"Milkweed seed—"

"Prepared?"

"—ground fine—and mucus of flobberworm."

Snape's eyes narrowed.  "Specific target of dissolution?"

"Lower intestine."  Harry elaborated before Snape asked another question.  "Premature release is inhibited by the addition of liverwort, which ensures the enteric charms will not erode until reaching the acidic levels.  Sir."  _Heh_. 

Harry saw the sallow fingers of Snape's hand drum upon one of the desks before he fired off another half-dozen questions, each of which, Harry answered with ease.  With resignation and a look of promised revenge, Snape conceded by saying, "Enough—Patil, administer Mister Potter's poison already."

_How long has Snape waited to say that?  _Harry could only wonder.  With their antidote in one hand and their poison of choice meeting Snape's approval, Harry downed the stoppered flask of pink poison that held the rancid aroma of mouldy dog's breath. 

Harry then had to stand up, open his robes, untuck his shirt and lift it up to allow everyone to observe his stomach.  It started with little twitches just minutes after ingesting the poison and he needed to wait until it progressed to full out undulation until he could be sure the toxic agent of the poison had attached and was in effect.  Only then was he allowed to administer their antidote.  Hopefully it worked or he'd soon been littering the dungeon floor with live salmons. 

"Ooh," Mandy Brocklehurst said as she finally seemed to take interest in their presentation.  "Is that a happy trail I see?" 

"Miss Brocklehurst!" Snape snapped.  "Ten points from Ravenclaw!  How many times do I have to remind you no sugar quills allowed in the laboratory!" 

Thanks to Mandy's intensive scrutiny of his exposed physique, Harry now felt supremely uncomfortable and impatient for the poison to get on with it already.  He caught Hermione giving Mandy a smug look before the first swoop of something flipping inside his stomach made him almost hurl just from the sensation.  Snape, being cruel by nature, made Harry wait a full minute more to be sure he wasn't just faking and finally, salivating heavily, Harry was allowed to administer the antidote. 

Now the feeling that there were things flipping about in his stomach changed to the feeling that those things were dissolving and, after one final wave of nausea, Harry felt his stomach relax back to normal.  A smattering of polite applause from several classmates concluded their presentation along with Snape's dour look of supreme disappointment as Harry and Padma returned to their workstation.  And then Harry promptly threw up. 

"There's no salmon!  There's no salmon!" Padma pointed out frantically. 

Harry had to agree he was relieved to see that, too. 

Snape stalked over at once with a disgusted look on his face and, as soon as Harry saw him looking disdainfully at Harry's new floor decorations, Harry whipped out his wand, incanting, "_Evanesco_," to clear away the mess. 

At which, Snape smirked.  "Five points from Gryffindor soiling my floors and another five for failing to preserve what might have been a valuable sample specimen." 

Harry's jaw dropped indignantly but he snapped it shut before he could lose more points.  Up next and preparing for their presentation were now Ernie, Neville and Malfoy.  Harry, steamed now over Snape's gratuitous docking of points, barely paid attention to the lecture given mainly by Ernie as Neville handled the displays.  Malfoy seemed quite unconcerned with his group members and spent a great deal of time making silent gagging faces in Harry's direction. 

As Harry cooled down, he began to notice just how bad Neville seemed to be shaking as he cast Display Charms.   In fact, it occurred to Harry that the past week and half, he'd seen Neville only rarely in their dorm and that, when he did see Neville, he seemed to have regressed back into the clumsy and nervous wreck Harry hadn't seen for well over a year. 

_He seemed fine over holiday when he was at the Celebration_, Harry mused.  _But Ginny said he had been named as a one-time candidate for the prophecy in that article the Prophet ran last week.  She'd said Neville wasn't dealing well with all the attention_.  

He watched as their lecture concluded and Snape started in on grilling Neville much like he'd grilled Harry with rapid-fire questions.  Unfortunately, Neville was not fairing as well as Harry had. 

"Are you telling me you do not know, Longbottom, the side effects of deadly nightshade?" Snape hissed, obviously smelling weakness.  "How about the neurological effects of belladonna?"

Neville was positively white.  "It's not...I don't think..."

"No, you don't think, do you?"  Snape said scornfully before rounding on Malfoy.  "Malfoy!  What do you have to contribute to this display of ineptitude?" 

Malfoy snapped to attention and said, "Professor, I'm in prepared to demonstrate that our synthesized Healing Factor Formula has a greater efficiency and efficacy than the equivalent charm in reversing a common hex."  Malfoy whiled then to face the wary-looking Neville and barked out, "Sit, Longbottom!"

Neville looked completely unprepared for this as Malfoy waxed on about the various hexes and curses that they believed their potion could heal and reverse. 

"Hold still, Boy Who Bumbles," Malfoy muttered at Neville as he cast a Boil Hex on him twice; once on the back of each hand.  On one hand, Malfoy cast a rather poor Boil Pop Charm that resulted in pus spraying Neville in the face.  On the other hand, Malfoy had him dip it in a beaker of their formula.  Luckily for Neville, it worked and, as the bell rang to signal the end of class, he used it to heal his other, still oozing, hand. 

As Harry packed up to leave, he heard Malfoy say with false innocence, "Oh, is the class over already?  I had so many other salient points to make."

No one was listening to him and Harry could swear he even heard Snape mutter, "Pity," as they all hastened to leave the dungeons.  As Harry caught up to Hermione on the way out the door, he still heard Malfoy going on to no one in particular.

"I wanted to explain so many other things.  You know, things like examples of hexes that are not compatible with this formula.  Er, oh, I had a list, I wonder if I recall any?  Oh, yes!  _Detondere_!" 

At this, Harry felt a breeze rustle through his hair and he reached up then to bat at whatever was ticking his head as he shot a glare back at Malfoy. 

"A simple Shearing Hex is one the formula can't help," Malfoy said brightly to Ernie who was walking beside him and looking like he had no clue why Malfoy was suddenly speaking to him like he was a friend. 

"Harry—" Hermione grabbed his arm and Harry stopped dead.  As he passed his hand over his head, in a motion that should have had his fingers running through his hair, he found that there was no hair whatsoever there.  It had all been shaved clean off and was now fluttering to the floor, no longer attached to his head. 

"Ew!!" came the distinctive voice of Pansy Parkinson from directly beside Harry.  "Potter's _molting_!"  Harry saw her now disdainfully pluck a lock of black hair from her robe and flick it to the floor in exaggerated disgust.

"_Mal_foy!" Hermione yelled back at him.

"_Mud_blood!" Malfoy mocked as he laughed riotously in the middle of the hallway

"You know the rules about magic in the corridors!" she said crossly before returning her attention to Harry.  "Was it really just a Shearing Hex?" 

He nodded, still running a hand over his bare skull, which, incidentally, reminded him immediately of Kingsley. 

"Come on," she said as she grabbed his arm and led them into the nearest empty classroom and shut the door.  "Fix it before someone comes in." 

Two minutes later, Hermione was running her hands through Harry's slowly but steadily lengthening locks.  With each pass of her hand and scrape of her nails upon his scalp, Harry felt more and more convinced that now was as good a time as any to practice some advanced Locking Charms and add a new locale to one of his not-updated-often-enough lists. 

* * *

REMINDER: You can find chapter files, a discussion forum, and other dedicated and outrageously Potter-obsessed readers at my Yahoo group for this fic. There is a link on my bio page to the group. The Yahoo group name is: HPAoF. Cheers!

Oh, oh!! And I finally got the song file from Chapter 18 to load. It's in the group's File section.

* * *


	52. Chapter 55 Let's Make a Deal

* * *

**Chapter 55.  Let's Make a Deal  **

Harry could tell that his hair had grown back to be just about the same length as it had been before just by feeling how Hermione's fingers carded through it.   He watched her face as she watched him, fascinated, as he finished growing his hair.  Usually, he had a mirror for such things but he didn't even feel like he needed one right now; in her eyes and playing across her face, he could see a reflection of himself as clear as any mirror.   Of course, he always looked much better reflected through Hermione's eyes than he ever could through any old piece of glass. 

Her hand had paused now that his hair was grown out and he could feel it cupping the back of his neck, her fingers curling ever so slightly to twirl some hair at the base of his neck.

"Was that a locking charm I heard you cast?" Hermione whispered with a sly smile.

Harry felt a smirk play on his mouth and turned his head to place a lingering kiss on the inside of her arm for an answer. 

"I'll take that as a yes," she said as she pulled him closer, away from the edge of the desk on which he leaned.  

"Do you, oh daughter of dentists, happen to know a handy breath freshening charm, perchance?" he asked, thinking that after his little presentation in Potions class, he really ought to refrain from kissing anyone just yet. 

Hermione smugly pulled her wand from her sleeve and, after Harry obligingly opened his mouth, he felt the tingle of her charm accompanied by the strong smell of mint. 

"Thank you," he said formally with a nod.

Hermione eyed him with a raised eyebrow as she stowed away her wand.  Harry just grinned disarmingly back at her before promptly reaching out with his hands and pulling her towards him roughly.  His hands then slid between the opening in the front of her robes and found their way to the familiar swell of her hips as he held her against him while his nose pushed pack hair from her neck so his lips could then latch onto to her neck, just below her ear.   Kissing and tasting, he felt her react by arching into him while her hands fisted into his hair.

"It's been too long," he breathed out into her ear before starting a line of kisses all along her jaw that lead to her mouth.   Hungrily, she opened her mouth at once and clutched his head in her hands as her tongue sought out Harry's and, stroking it, drew it into her mouth. 

As Harry kissed her, with his tongue invading and mapping every inch of her mouth in an effort to reassure him it was still the same mouth he always dreamed of kissing each night when he fell asleep, alone, in his Gryffindor four-poster, his hands began to tug up on the blouse that was tucked into the back of her skirt.  He _needed_ to feel her; to feel her skin sliding beneath his hands. 

Finally, he got her shirt untucked and his hands quickly slid up and over the smooth skin of her back as he pressed her even closer against himself.  He ached for his body to feel hers and hastily turned them around and pushed her back so she was the one now leaning back onto the desk.  

All things infuriating such as potions, Snape and Malfoy were wiped from Harry's mind as he could only just manage to think clearly enough to estimate how much time they'd have before Hermione was due to rush off to her afternoon class.  And even that thought was quickly being pushed aside as Harry's baser instincts rose up to fuel a desperate desire to feel every inch of Hermione right here and right now. 

Breathless, he pulled back and leaned his forehead against Hermione's as they both panted for air.  "I need you," he rasped out as his hands undid the clasp of her robes and then drew open the collar of her shirt.  With a fleeting nip at her lips, he then dove down and kissed her neck in the hollow of her throat as his hands grasped her thighs and then slid their way up; as he tugged her forward, was now perfectly positioned for him to achingly press himself against her.

_This_ was what Harry needed; to feel himself spiralling upwards with bliss as, just for a little while, he left the rest of the world and all its problems behind back on the ground.  

Somehow, over the sound of lips on skin and clothing sliding against clothing, Harry's brain vaguely registered a _click._ 

Just as Harry's hands reached all the way back, beneath her skirt, so he could cup her arse and then press her more tightly against him and as he began to consider just exactly how one might go about having sex with only a desk for support, until...a certain sneering voice cut into the heated sounds of kissing.   

"Potter!" Snape barked out like a slash of ice-cold water, making Harry and Hermione each gasp and jump apart with shock.  Snape then quickly advanced towards them from a side door neither had noticed (nor locked).  The gleam in his eye was enough to tell Harry that getting caught snogging in a dungeon classroom by Snape was sure to mean more than just a mere loss of points.

Indeed, Snape paused about just a meter away from both of them and, with a snarl, spat at Hermione, "_Scandalous_!! A _Prefect_ being caught in a lurid and wanton display in the middle of a classroom.  And you, Potter!" 

Snape now turned his disgusted leer on Harry. 

"I'd be lying if I said I was shocked.  But I am _revolted_ at your attempt to disgrace and besmirch _my_ dungeons with your tenacious and ubiquitous hormonal urges.   Fifty points from Gryffindor for _each_ of you for misuse of a classroom," he intoned with spiteful rage.

Harry heard Hermione breath out in relief; she must have been expected more in the way of punishment, he thought. 

"And _detention_ for the both of you," Snape then added smugly as he crossed his arms over his chest.  "_Separate_ detentions.  For a _week_."

Harry was livid as he and Hermione hurried to catch the end of lunch in the Great Hall.  Snape had ordered Hermione to serve her detentions starting this weekend for a week and then, after she was done, Harry would serve his the next week.   Two weeks without being able to see each other almost at all in the evenings!  Hermione was most upset over the fact that there was no way these detentions would go unnoticed by Professor McGonagall and that seven nights in detention would seriously cut into her revision schedule. 

"Where've you been?" Ron asked as Harry sullenly dropped down on the bench and reached for a plate.

"Getting detention," Harry growled.

"_Detentions_," Hermione corrected him in just as much a sour mood as Harry. 

"Why?" Ron exclaimed.  "What'd you do?"

Harry opened his mouth and then shut it.  He looked at Hermione and then at Ron.  "_Nothing_.  Snape--he," Harry scowled, "he caught us..._kissing_.  It just looked bad because we were in a classroom all alone.  Which—I might add—was because _Malfoy_, the bloody bastard, hexed me in the middle of the hallway coming out of class!  We just ducked in there to reverse the hex!"  He shook his head disgustedly. 

"You know," Hermione said crossly, "I didn't even take points away from Malfoy for that stunt!" 

She made a noise of frustration and then began wrapping a sandwich in a napkin as Ron stared at her in disbelief.  "_What_?" he squawked.  "That's like the _entire point_ of being a prefect—to be able to punish Malfoy!!  How could you _forget_?!"

Hermione huffed.  "Well excuse me!  I was a bit more worried about Harry being hexed!"

"Do it now!" Ron urged.

"Honestly, Ron!" Hermione said as she rolled her eyes exasperatedly.  "_You_ were a prefect for a whole year, you know perfectly well—at least you _should_—that points may only be deducted at the time of the infraction." 

Ron gave Harry an exasperated look as Hermione stood then and announced she had to be off to her afternoon class.  But before she left, she gave a challenging look up at the head table where Snape was now smugly sitting, and then leaned over to kiss Harry soundly on the mouth. 

Ron, looking a bit green after this display couldn't manage eye contact with Harry after that and finished off his lunch in relative silence before heading off to Herbology.  Harry, in his own sour mood, couldn't say he was too sorry to not have to pay attention to any witless banter and was quite content to brood mutely as he did his best to ignore the usual curious stares and ceaseless gossiping.    He picked at his plate until well past the lunch hour and then trudged off to the library where he was now spending his private study time until he finished the assignment from Professor Dumbledore.   With any luck, Harry planned to have it finished by the end of the week and begin practical lessons in Blood Alchemy on Sunday. 

In the library, Harry found a small vacant table in the back, just off to the side of the restricted section and far away from peering eyes, and settled in.  He pulled out the first of three scrolls of parchment that he'd already written and skimmed over his opening paragraphs describing the art of alchemy as _'the artful transfer of magical properties through the novel use of wizardry'_.   It then went on to describe the two complementary fields of applied alchemy: alchemical fusion and diffusion.  Fusion was the creative combination of magical properties to achieve a new and unique source of magical essence while diffusion was the manipulative application of the created source to effect wizardry.  At first, these two concepts had seemed very obtuse and Harry had understood little difference between them.  But then, he'd begun to find records of disaster after disaster where a wizard, who'd create a most brilliant and awesome combination of the most magically powerful elements, would then meet an untimely and often spectacular death upon attempting to harness or use that power for themselves. 

Some disasters were such as the legend of King Midas who demanded a Greek sorcerer grant him the ability to transfigure anything into gold with a single touch.   The King had soon irreversibly petrified all those dear to him after merely laying a hand on them and he eventually starved to death as he could never touch food nor drink without it transforming into gold.  Other disasters were more along the lines of wizards who tried to create multiple-cored wands but, when they would try to use them, the power was so much and so unstable that it created a backlash that often destroyed entire stone castles and all those in the near vicinity.  It didn't take long for Harry to see that almost every alchemist listed in any history book, even many who were noted as successful and respected, had met their own death at the hand of an experiment gone awry.  Clearly, many has been successful is manipulating magic but very few had ever mastered its applied use.

It was enough to make Harry pause more than a few times and wonder if this was the wisest course of study.  To him, it sounded much more like a field suited for someone as brilliant and clever as Hermione.  Then again, he reckoned he was virtually immortal for now by way of the prophecy stating that either he or Voldemort could only  die at the hand of the other.   According to that logic, he was immune from being killed by some bizarre and random alchemical explosion.  At least for now.

It was also clear to Harry that this was the sort of magic that Voldemort had surely tried to master and was likely still trying to master.  Voldemort was the epitome of the wizard seeking the ultimate in power and glory and this fact made Harry determined to at least learn the theory of this magic.  Hadn't Moody always told him to study his opponent?  Didn't he always say that the more you knew about an opponent, the easier it was to try to predict their moves?  

So Harry was resolute and continued to pore over the research for his essay as a means to both flee his restlessness and as a means to avoid the ever-attentive eyes of nearly the entire student body (and quite a few of the teachers, too). 

Perhaps the most recent gossip, spurred on by the revelation of his involvement in the prophecy, was making Harry a bit paranoid.  Or perhaps it was just his discomfort at not hearing much news from Voldemort or his followers in the past week and half, but Harry felt an increasing need to push himself beyond anyone's expectations.   More than anyone, Harry felt Dumbledore watching him now and more than anyone, it was Dumbledore's expectations that Harry wanted to exceed. 

Occasionally, when Harry was working in the library, Dumbledore would stop and rest a hand on his shoulder, checking over his work and the books he'd pulled out to reference.  On these occasions, Harry sensed both a heartening sense of pride from the headmaster and a sense of concern.  It was Harry's guess that Dumbledore likely feared for Harry's safety if he should ever get the urge to apply the powers of alchemy for his own gain but Harry knew this wasn't his aim; he was simply seeking to know his opponent.    He was simply trying to prepare.

That Friday morning, after two gruelling nights of scrubbing cauldrons for Snape in detentions, Hermione told Harry with a defiant glint in her eye, "I most certainly am _not_ going to any detention this evening!" 

Harry had just received a letter, delivered by Hedwig, from Professor Dumbledore with a note that simply read: _'Meet this evening after dinner in the antechamber'_ in Dumbledore's familiar flowing script. 

Harry looked dubiously at Hermione.  "Did Snape tell you that you had detention tonight?"

Hermione sniffed and, while watching Hedwig nip at Harry's finger until he dropped his toast, said, "Well yes, but that was last night.  He likely forgot we might have a meeting tonight or just thought it might be postponed again if the others couldn't make it."

Harry looked at her uncertainly; he knew if it was him planning to effectually skive off a detention with Snape that Hermione would be all over him to think twice and that Snape would likely try to retaliate by launching some new campaign to have Harry expelled. 

Hermione looked up loftily as Hedwig flapped her wings and flew away   "Don't even say it, Harry--I'm not going to go _near_ that man for any reason if I don't have to!  He's _insufferable_!"  This of course only made Harry smirk knowingly.  "All he does is _loom_ over you in detention!" she went on.  "He can't _help_ but make some derisive comment every other minute and then stare at you with that maddening, _knowing_ look.  It's driving me batty and he knows very well that the Order is more important than any silly, sadistic punishment he's decided to impose!" 

She gave Harry a challenging look and he just raised his hands in surrender. 

"Look," he said, "you don't have to justify Snape being a bastard to _me_."  As it was, Harry cursed Snape each night as he stiffly crawled into bed alone and as yet another day had passed with no chances to get Hermione alone and finally finish what had been so rudely interrupted. 

By the time dinner rolled around that evening, Hermione was no less resolute and she seemed to almost take a perverse pride in her obvious and reckless defiance of authority.  Even Harry was impressed with her brash rebellion and pure loathing of Snape.  

"Maybe you could have just told McGonagall about it and had her make Snape reschedule it," Harry said as they walked out of the Great Hall, towards the antechamber.  "What if he's waiting for you right now taking off ten points from Gryffindor for every minute you're late?"  It felt down right unusual for Harry to be the one trying to talk rationally to Hermione. 

"Unless he plans on being late to this meeting, he'll be here and not waiting down in his filthy dungeons," Hermione said as they entered the room.  "Besides, if I'd have gone to McGonagall, she'd want to know _why_ I got detention and likely would have wanted to have had some talk with me then on _proper behavior_ and how I need to think about maintaining a good record to preserve my chance at Head Girl."

"Do I even need to ask about just what this 'improper behavior' was?" an amused voice said.

"Remus!" Harry greeted with a grin.  "I wondered if you'd be able to make it tonight!"

Remus shrugged at said, "Are you kidding?  This is a break from all I've been doing of late."  To Hermione, he then said, "And your parents both send their regards.  Although, I am afraid, I've barely seen much of either of them.  I've been away more than home.  But I know Tonks and Andy and both your parents are all getting on just fine." 

Hermione forgot all about Snape and immediately questioned Remus, "How is your work with the WSS going?"  Dumbledore had already told them that Remus was aiding the coordination of the volunteer support services he'd helped establish at St. Mungo's with the recently increased funding and scope of the Ministry's Werewolf Support Services department. 

Remus sighed but gave her a tired smile.  "It's been a long time coming."  He looked down at the floor a moment and then said quietly but with evident pride, "They haven't yet repealed the legislation prohibiting the Ministry's employment of _half-breeds_ yet but I've been hired on as a contract consultant."

"Oh, _Remus_!" Hermione exclaimed with a bright smile.  "That's excellent!"

"Brilliant," Harry said, nodding as Hermione gave Remus an enthusiastic hug that made Remus look rather embarrassed.

"Oh, they _will_ be repealing that legislature soon, won't they?" Hermione then asked in a way that made Harry sure she'd draft a letter to the Minister right then and there if the answer was no. 

Remus nodded quietly again, with a bit of a shy grin playing at his mouth.  "At least that's what I've been told.  It's a law that's been in place an awful long time and so it will take more than a few weeks to get reversed."

Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore both entered then, followed closely by a heavily gimping Moody.   Moody was never seen without his walking staff but, at times, seemed so nimble it appeared merely for show.  Today however, Moody seemed to especially lean on the staff and to favor his lone good leg. 

"Blasted Anti-Apparition Wards all over the place," he growled out with a bit of a wheeze. 

"Ah," Dumbledore said with a smile then.  "So they've been erected at the Ministry then?   That is good to hear.   I'm sure they are an inconvenience but, necessary nonetheless."

"Are they increasing protections around the Ministry then?" Hermione asked as they all moved over to be seated at the round table in the center of the room. 

"Aye," Moody said as he dragged a chair towards him and propped his wooden leg up on it.  "And none too soon, I tell you.  I helped install a flock of a dozen owls to be used for identity confirmation just yesterday and we've already caught two wizards impersonating someone else under Polyjuice." 

McGonagall gasped.  "Were they both Death Eaters?"

"Nah," Moody shook his head dismissively.  "One turned out to just be impersonating his mistress's husband—no clue where the real husband gone off to; and the other just seemed to have wanted to change from a Patrick to a Patricia.  But all the same—ain't _no one_ getting in there through those doors now who isn't who they seem to be."

Harry had to stifle a laugh at the notion of a man pretending to be a woman after he caught Remus rolling his eyes in amusement. 

"And," Moody went on, "we installed Invisible Detectors at the entrances; they're made of magical glass that can see through any disguise.  Like this," he said jabbing his thumb at his electric-blue magical eye. 

"Excellent, excellent," Dumbledore said, sounding very pleased. 

Harry had almost forgot then that they were still waiting for one more person to show up when the door banged open and Snape stood silhouetted in the open doorway.  His eyes narrowed sharply as they fell upon Hermione and he then stalked into the room ominously. 

"Severus!" Dumbledore greeted cheerfully.   "Do have a seat," he invited, pulling out the chair beside himself. 

Snape, however, was still staring down Hermione and working his jaw in an obvious effort to decided just what snarling remark to make.  Harry decided it might to best to prevent Snape from ever making that decision and quickly turned to Moody and asked, "Did you get everything taken care of at the Burrow?  Ginny said she'd gotten a letter from Bill saying he'd stopped by and that there were now loads changes at home."

Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye that Snape, though with a clenched jaw, did indeed seat himself beside Dumbledore and sit back impassively in his chair. 

Moody leaned forward then after waving his wand at the door and securing it with an assortment of spells.  "I did indeed get Molly and Arthur all squared away.  It was easier than you'd think though."

"I ran into the twins in Diagon Alley the other day," Remus said.  "They mentioned that they helped and were ready to launch a new line of home security products?'

Moody's face then twisted in a hideous grin that Harry now knew meant he was laughing.  "And well they should!  Seems, Molly and Arthur had tried to clear out the twin's room--you know, since Percy's wife is now living there and expecting a sprog.  But every time anyone tried to move any bit of furniture, they found something blowing up or got hexed more times than they could count!  When I arrived there, Molly was having a hell of a time countering a hex that had her hands swollen the size o' dustbin lids!  Even Bill came round and was of no use in that room.  So, Bill got those twins on the fire and ordered them over straight away and after I heard them talking about how they'd virtually jinxed every single thing in that room to hex anyone who dared enter or touch a thing, well then, I thought why not try and be original in how we ward that place!

"Remember--they already had a list of failed test products that they'd been working on making into some home alarm system so just I mixed in a bit of the usual while those two lads jinxed everything from the front door to the grass in the yard!"  Moody then went on, describing how the twins had set up loads of selective jinxes and provisional hexes that would be tripped if anyone not cleared, even dared to step foot near the Burrow.  

"So there's no sign of any rats?" Remus asked with a dark look. 

Moody rapped his knuckles on the table as he said, "I saw nothing and I can tell you if one _does_ try to come on back, he won't be hanging around for long.  If he's not hexed six ways to Sunday then he'll be torn to bits by that pair of kneazels Albus had sent over there." 

"Oh," McGonagall said with a prideful smile.  "How do they like the place?"  She turned to Hermione then and said, "I selected them especially--picked them for their cunning and remarkable intelligence!"

"Aye," Moody said as eyed McGonagall with his one good eye.  "Last I saw them, they were kipping on a windowsill and stalking a ball of maroon woolly yarn.  But...if you say so, they might be clever yet."

McGonagall gave Moody a towering glare but before she could go off on the cleverness of the feline species, Dumbledore said, "Alastor, I must thank you for taking care of the Weasleys.  They've got each and every member of that family involved in one way or another, working along with us; it's too busy a household to not be protected against possible leaks and the Order owes them for their service." 

Harry could swear he saw Remus give a kick under the table towards Snape at this and did then notice that Snape's mouth, which had opened for some remark, had then swiftly snapped shut as Dumbledore began a run down of old business.    

Dumbledore was able to announce that the Ministry was arranging to host a generous number of foreign hit wizards, courtesy of the nations in the International Confederation of Wizards.  "Amelia and most members of the Ministry are convinced the top priority right now is to both protect the wizarding world from the general threat of upheaval from Voldemort and the threat of exposure to the muggle world.  Both rather constitute an international crisis but, for those nations not under imminent threat from Voldemort, they tend to view protection of our secrecy as the most critical concern," he said. "Which all translates over to two main things: we will soon have a vast increase in the number of wands at the ready should they be needed and the Dementors, who have been preying most on muggles and causing quite a few raised eyebrows, are becoming a focus of the Confederation." 

This made Harry feel a tremendous swell of relief.  With all the things building up upon his shoulders, the persistent destruction of the Dementors was one thing that just always seemed to weigh on his mind.  It was a plague of the Wizarding World that had spread over and had begun to prey upon defenceless muggles for nearly a month and the Ministry let it go on without even an article in the Daily Prophet.   Harry didn't have any bright ideas yet on how to eradicate the now-uncontrollable Dementors, but he knew that the failure of the Wizarding World to take responsibility for them was something of a disgrace on wizardkind. 

"Will they be trying to destroy the Dementors finally?" Harry asked Dumbledore.  Nothing short of Voldemort deciding to call off his whole bid to kill Harry would make him as happy as knowing the icy cold chill of Dementors would never haunt anyone ever again.

Dumbledore nodded, saying, "That would, of course, be ideal.  In fact, I know an international task force has already been set up to try to do just this.  Remember, ours is not the only nation that is plagued by Dementors.  Ours is, however, one of the more densely populated areas for such a number of Dementors to inhabit.  But alas, that is no one's fault but our own for we are the ones who fed our own condemned to these creatures to swell their ranks."

Moody gruffly said, "I've heard some talk of trying to negotiate with them and convince 'em to go back to Azkaban--any truth in that?"

Dumbledore shook his head.  "None.   It's impossible.  Voldemort has already offered them free reign and the luxury of feeding at will.  We would only be gambling on their loyalty when, it is plain to see, we have absolutely nothing to offer them.   The deal that was struck years ago is haunting us now in that we have three times as many Dementors to deal with than we did when they first took over Azkaban.  No," he shook his head again.  "Until we can come up with a way to destroy them, we have no leverage against them, we must treat them as every bit the enemy." 

This, despite being depressing, still left Harry feeling that at least something was being done about the Dementors. 

"Well, that's cheerful," said Remus as he turned then to Moody.  "I've been meaning to ask, is there any word on the whereabouts of the Longbottoms?  I've not read or heard a single rumour about them."

Moody just waved and shook his grizzled head.  "Nothing!" he grunted. "Kingsley's had to move it down to just a missing persons report.  Doesn't have the wizards to spare to look into much more."  Moody then leaned forward across the table and, his magical eye swivelling around at each of them, growled out, "In fact, there's been a right number of suspiciously missing persons being reported of late.  Argh--maybe not so suspicious, as I can likely tell _who's_ to blame but, they've sure all up and vanished without a trace.  And there're more than half a dozen of them that all connect together--any guesses how?"

Harry and everyone around the table exchanged wary glances; Remus and McGonagall's face both betrayed that they each feared the missing were people they'd call friends.

Moody held out a gnarled hand and began to tick off one by one as he said, "Two Lestrange cousins, three women with a previous surname of Jugson, and the parents and brother of one Walden MacNair.  Vanished.  I had Tonks do a run of all the missing names for any immediate relation to any known Death Eaters--that's what she found."

Harry immediately asked, "Do you assume they've all now decided to become Death Eaters then?  Have they gone into Voldemort's service?"

At which, Snape snorted derisively.  "Of course not!  I can safely say that the MacNairs would sooner slit their throats than bow to the Dark Lord.  They're _infamous_ for their attempts to try to get their son secured into St. Mungo's when he was younger and they feared he was too far into the Dark Arts.  If they are, they certainly are _not_ willing."

"Oh, I do remember that," McGonagall said with a nod.  "He was just back for his fourth year and they came to the school--remember Albus?  They said that before he'd left they believed he tortured and killed a slew of their neighbourhood puffskeins and that he'd also been seen with a suspicious number of horklump hides.  They thought he was a bit deranged and wanted him to get professional help.  But he was sent back from St. Mungo's after only a day and never another word was said on it."

"Mm," Snape said with narrowed eyes.  "That's because Lucius Malfoy showed up and offered him a job if he could keep his nose clean long enough to get through school with marks high enough to enter the Ministry."   He shook his head haughtily then, making his hair flap about limply, and said, "It sounds like they're going after blood relations of those imprisoned now and whose whereabouts are _still_ a constant desire of the Dark Lord.  Avery has two brothers and, if they're not doing time now as it is, you can likely find them at a certain pub in Knockturn Alley.  In fact, if the rumours are correct, you'll also find a witch who works the bar and is likely due any day now with Dolohov's third or fourth illegitimate spawn."  He looked at Moody, saying, "You might want to send Fletcher there as a pair of ears as he's likely the one who'd blend in--there're drunks a plenty in that hole." 

"Perhaps Tonks could go in disguise?" Lupin said as he nicked a piece of parchment from Hermione and shoved it over to Snape.  "Write down the name of that place."

As Snape took a quill from his robes and scratched out the name, he said, "I wouldn't send her.  She's more clumsy than Weasley on a broomstick," and shot a sneer at Harry. 

Harry of course immediately began to fantasize about knocking Snape about the head with the bristly end of his Firebolt. 

"You know, _Snape_," Remus said with less than his usual civility.  "I don't seem to recall _you_ being too swift of a flier."

Harry watched as Snape's eyes glittered dangerously at Remus while Remus just smiled back wolfishly.  On his other side, he heard McGonagall jab Moody, eliciting a grunt and a curse, before asking, "Tell me about those kneazels now!  An old family neighbour of mine breeds them and I spotted those two out of a litter of nearly eight while visiting over the holidays as remarkably _exceptional_ felines!" 

While snarking ensued on either side of him, Harry leaned over and asked Hermione, "Is there anything we have to bring up here tonight?"

Hermione hazarded a glance over at Snape, who was sneering at Remus, and whispered back to Harry, "I don't think so, but I think Snape's a bit ticked at me so, er, you know, the quicker we could move this along, then the quicker we could maybe slip out of here?"

Harry looked at her and now saw that the defiance that had emanated from her earlier was now replaced by a nervous fear.   This fear that now worried her features made him want to wrap her in his arms and make a litany of promises that he could never keep. 

He reached over, picking up her hand in her lap and laced his fingers through hers beneath the table.  Looking up to meet her eyes, the thought then occurred to Harry that if they could manage to get out of here soon, then maybe they could make a side trip to the Room of Requirement before heading back to the Common Room.  He was now quite anxious to get this meeting over with. 

He was a bit too busy trying to project his thoughts silently to Hermione so that he jumped when Dumbledore leaned over, twinkling, behind them and asked, "Are the both of your as ready to leave these two quarrels behind as I?  I can't help but wonder if the elves might have any of that sumptuous trifle left from dinner."

Harry smiled at Dumbledore, so relieved for his timing that he could almost hug him. 

"Oh, yes, Professor," Hermione said, nodding.  "I was just mentioning to Harry how behind I am on my studies.  I'm nearly three days behind on my schedule--"

"Which means you're still at least four days ahead of everyone else," Harry interrupted with a smirk as they rose from the table, Hermione gathering her things. 

McGonagall and Moody had both risen then as Moody continued to protest that he'd not noticed anything remarkable at all about the Kneazels he'd delivered to the Weasleys.  As Hermione ticked off courses she needed to do homework for, Harry was pleased to see that Remus was still engaging Snape in a battle of one-liners that seemed to be causing Snape to reach new levels of sneering.   But before Harry and Hermione could make it to the door, Remus threw his hands up in disgust at Snape and walked away from him, over towards Harry. 

"Harry," Remus called out as he walked over.  As he neared, he leaned in and said, "Help a guy out there--don't leave me trying to deal with Snape all alone."

"Me?" Harry squeaked.  "Don't look at me--_you_ can say whatever you like but if I tell him what I think then it's points lost and a date with detention."

"Speaking of _detentions_..." Snape then said silkily from just behind Harry.  "Miss Granger, unless I am very much mistaken—and let there be no doubt that I believe any such thing—I do believe you were given a detention for every evening this week?  Did I not specify just last night that you were expected back this very night after dinner?" 

Snape's voice filled with almost false cheer reminded Harry quite unpleasantly of a mixture between the normal sarcastically sneering Snape and the former Professor Umbridge.  Harry shuddered at the combined image.  

"Detention?  Miss _Granger_?" McGonagall said shrilly as her head whipped around from Moody to Snape to Hermione.  "What for?"

Hermione, Harry could see, was turning a heated shade of red and she looked like she wanted to both yell and hide behind him at the same time. 

"What is this, Severus?" Dumbledore asked as he peered down over his half-moon glasses at Snape.

"_Detention_, Headmaster.  Miss Granger had earned herself a _week's_ worth of detentions and, by all rights, is due to have been serving one for the past hour right now, _however_, it seems she saw fit to disregard her punishment _completely_ which was given after I found—"

"Excuse me, Professor Snape," Hermione then announced tersely.  "Was it really your plan to loom over me for another night while I did the most disgusting task you could find while an Inner Council meeting was occurring?  Did _you_ not plan on attending here tonight?"

Snape sneered and said, "For your information, Mister Filch had arranged for your services this evening and unlike _you_, I am quite positive meetings can and _do_ occur without requiring my presence."  He then affected a smug look and said, "I think I shall bring this matter to your Head of House."  Turning to McGonagall with a great show, he said, "Professor McGonagall, you have a student who is now truant for a detention."

Blustering, McGonagall asked, "And why was this detention—_detentions_—assigned in the first place?"

Snape smiled tightly then and, talking loudly to shout over Hermione's hurried and glossed-over account of the event, announced, "Because I found her and Potter in a rather compromising position that involved Potter's hands up her skirt and her splayed out on a desk in the middle of a classroom!"

Harry's head was suddenly smacked then by both of his palms as they sought to shield his eyes from the horrific sight that was McGonagall's face at this announcement. 

With the sole attention of the room, Snape continued triumphantly, "You can expect Potter to be serving a week's worth of detentions as soon as Granger sees fit to finish serving hers!  It appeared that they only locked _one_ door to the room and failed to completely account for _all_ the entrances including, most unfortunately for them, the one that I happened to use.  As for me, I don't care what goes on in the _rest_ of this castle but _my_ classrooms are not meant to be a frotting ground for randy Gryffindors!"

Harry heard Remus sigh commiseratingly beside him before Moody barked out, "Potter!  You failed to sweep and clear all entrances to a room?!   What's rule number one?  CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" 

McGonagall was now questioning Hermione on the validity of Snape's claims.  Harry heard Hermione answer something by saying, "Professor, no!  We were fully clothed!" and he couldn't help but wince.  Clearly, it would be less painful to listen to Moody who was still extolling the dangers of failing to be aware of one's surroundings. 

"_Always_ check for _every_ entrance!" he was growling out now as he banged his staff down upon the floor in emphasis. 

Harry groaned inwardly at the cacophony of voices again shouting across the room in various directions.  McGonagall was now saying, "Miss Granger, I am disappointed—I might expect behavior like this from Mister Potter but not—"

"_What_?" Harry interrupted sharply at this comment.  "What is _that_ supposed to mean!?" he demanded, turning to look incredulously at his Head of House. 

"Well, I just mean," she began to explain as Hermione then shouted over at Snape, "You know we would never have even had to go into a classroom and lock the door if one of _your_ students hadn't hit Harry with a hex in the middle of the corridor!"

This announcement both effectively turned McGonagall's attention back to arguing with Snape and Moody's attention back to berating Harry. 

"_Whaddya mean someone hit Potter with a hex?!_" he bellowed stomped closer, training both eyes on Harry.  "Potter! What--?  How--?  _Who_ managed to hit you with a hex?" he demanded at the same time that Snape sniffingly said, "This is the first I've heard of any Slytherins using magic in the corridors.  Just what spell did they use?" 

Harry felt like he was caught up in a vortex of shouting and questions and closed his eyes at all the noise. 

"Harry," Remus said with a nudge at his elbow.  "What was the hex and who did it?"

Harry looked at Remus and heard Snape, McGonagall and Moody each fall silent in wait for the answer.  Dumbledore merely looked amused (and hungry) as he curled one end of his silver mustache around a long finger.

"Malfoy," Harry said dully.  He certainly wasn't proud that_ Malfoy, _of all people_, _had managed to hit him with some random spell as they were wandering out of class one day and Harry really just wished that they could move on; _any_ topic, _anything_ other than this would be preferable.  "It was nothing—he got me from behind with a stray Shearing Hex.  Obviously that's one spell I can counter no problem. Hermione just made sure to drag me into a classroom alone where no one would see me using my morphing skills to reverse it.  Nothing major--but he _did_ use magic in the corridors--which totally is nothing new for him."   

"Where did it hit?" McGonagall asked then.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and said, "Where else?  My head." 

He was about to go on and say it was no big deal and attempt to change the subject, perhaps to something more cheery like Dementors, when he suddenly felt the silence tense up.  It was the look on Dumbledore's face that made Harry pause the most though; Dumbledore now pinched the side of his glasses with his forefinger and thumb as he drew them down his nose and looked solemnly at Harry. 

"Do you mean to say, Harry, that you lost all the hair on your head in the middle of a busy corridor?" 

Harry swallowed thickly, knowing there was something he wasn't thinking of; the sudden capture of Dumbledore's complete attention and the open-mouthed look from Snape were screaming at him. 

"Er, yes?"

"How..._unbelievably_ stupid..." he heard Snape mutter with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Dumbledore quelled Snape with a look and stepped closer towards Harry as he asked, "Where did it all go?  The hair that was sheared off, Harry--where did it go?"

Harry opened his mouth to answer, thinking, _the floor_, but then snapped it shut.  _Where did it all go?_  If the dungeon corridor hadn't been littered with locks of untidy, jet-black hair when he and Hermione left, then where was it all now?  Then again, they were both so irate after loosing a hundred points from Gryffindor and earning their detentions that they perhaps would never have even noticed. 

"It was gone," Hermione answered beside him as Moody growled a string of expletives.  "When we came back out into the corridor, I remember thinking that I ought to clear it away but it had already been done."  She looked at Harry then as she bit down, worrying her lower lip.  "Maybe someone else cleared it away?  Maybe Neville?  Or Padma--they're both prefects--they know we're supposed to help keep the corridors clean.  Maybe--"

"_Maybe_," Snape burst in with contempt, "both _you and_ Potter failed to recall my many lectures on the importance of not leaving potential potions ingredients lying around!  _Maybe_-- it's now in the hands of someone planning on brewing any one of the _hundreds_ of potions that could result in--"

"Severus," Dumbledore said with a claming gesture; he then took a deep breath himself. 

"But, _sir_," Snape pressed on.  "I've told _all_ the students _numerous_--" Dumbledore rose a hand, stopping Snape from speaking further a second time. 

Moody, however, could still be heard listing off a litany of potions that could use a pinch of Harry Potter hair.  "...Fuzby's Fungal Tonic uses hair, Selective Sleeping Draughts, Poly--_BLOODY HELL!!_  _Polyjuice_ is one!!" he said, shouting out.

"Oh, hell," Harry heard Remus mutter as McGonagall turned away, hiding whatever it was she'd muttered.

Nodding, Dumbledore then calmly and resolutely said, "What is done is done.  It's two days gone by now." 

Moody then banged his staff upon the ground sharply and turned to Snape, saying, "You got your stores of boomslang locked up?!"  He took Snape's highly affronted look as confirmation and then asked, "Do you have an accounting for it all?  Have you _checked_ it?  Do you check it _regularly_?"

"Of course!"

"_Daily_?" Moody persisted.

"Don't be mad!"

Moody laughed.  "I am mad, Snape, and you know it!   Now lead me down to your stores!  I want to check them over!"

"I--I," Snape blustered.  "I will _not_!  Not--," he looked from Moody to Dumbledore and then back to Moody.  "You _can't_ be seen traipsing down the corridors with me and just waltzing into the dungeons!!"

Moody, who was eyeing Snape beadily, then pointed the head of his staff at him and quickly corrected him by saying, "You're wrong about that, _Snape_.  I'm back on payroll now and I've had my Auror's privilege reinstated to full by the Minister for Magic herself!  If I want to demand to inspect the stores of a Ministry-controlled substance then I surely can! And," he said as he took a step closer to Snape, "I think it would look odd if no one _at all_ ever showed up to inspect you--so...I'll ask again--"

"Perhaps," Dumbledore then said.  "The _three_ of us can go together to inspect the stores."  Snape whipped his head around then and looked sharply at Dumbledore who was looking steadily back at him.  "I think the Potions master's private stores would the first place from which most students would attempt to procure controlled ingredients and it would be wise to look it over after we are done here." 

He turned then to Harry whose mind was buzzing with many thoughts, not the least of which were questions like, _why on earth would anyone ever want to turn into me--even for an hour?  Don't they realize there're nutters everywhere who want to kill me?  How stupid would you have to be to go around looking like Harry Potter_?  

"That was really stupid, wasn't it?" Harry said, making Snape snort at once.  _It was_, he thought bitterly to himself. 

Moody, just growled, "It certainly wasn't vigilant, Potter, but I've seen worse by those wiser than you." 

"What's done is done," Dumbledore repeated. 

Remus then turned to Snape and asked, "Aren't you still monitoring a number of the students in your House?   Didn't the twins set you up with some Ears and Eyes?  You must be able to know if someone's got plans--"

"And tell me, Lupin," Snape cut in.  "Just why must you immediately assume it's one of _my_ students?"

"Oh, come _on_!" Remus said incredulously.  "You know damn well they're more likely than anyone else!  And Harry told me he overheard Malfoy and some friends talking before Christmas about getting illegal potions ingredients--did you even look into that?  Haevn't you been watching them _at all_?"

Snape, who Harry thought had to be reaching his limits with everyone bickering with him tonight, shouted back at Remus, "Oh _of course_, Lupin!  I have time to teach _six_ grades of Defense, _two_ courses of NEWT level Potions, oversee and counsel _all_ the students in my House whom no one _else_ ever seems to care about, report to the headmaster, serve the Dark Lord, _and_ keep a twenty-four hour surveillance over any Slytherin or student who would like to plan a prank on the most pompous Potter of all!  Perhaps I should ask the house-elves if they need a volunteer!  I'M SIMPLY _SWIMMING_ IN FREE TIME!!!"

"All right!" Dumbledore then said, raising his voice and holding up his hands to quiet _everyone_ this time.  "This is getting us nowhere.  If we're done here, Alastor and myself will accompany you, Severus, to inspect the stores.  Minerva, you can arrange for Hermione to make up tonight's missed detention and--as to next week--let us now plan for Harry to be free for our meeting lest we repeat this debate again.  Remus, tell Mundungus to keep an ear out and possibly send out a contact to ask around for black-market ingredients.  Harry--from now on, be sure to only accept food or drink from Dobby and Dobby alone.  I will visit him tonight and instruct him to be sure the food sent up to your seat at meals, is prepared only by him.  There are precautions you can take to make sure no can slip you anything that might now be personalized to only affect you and it would be wise to take those precautions.  Any questions?"

Harry could think of none and meekly shook his head. As Snape, Moody and Dumbledore then left and Hermione discussed her detention with McGonagall, Remus asked Harry, "Are you all right?"

Harry shrugged.  "I guess."  What could he say?  "I feel a bit stupid now.  I didn't even think."

"Don't get down on yourself," Remus said with a stern look.  "This could be nothing.  Someone might merely want to play a prank on you and turn your hair Slytherin green for your next Quidditch match.  You can't be sure--but you _can_ be prepared.  You know now to watch out.  I'm sure Moody or Hermione could give you a list of every single possible use for human hair--it'd...well, it _would_ be wise to think them over."

"But, still," Harry said scowling.  "Snape was right, it _was_ stupid--"

"Harry," Lupin said firmly and with a bit of a wince.  "Trust me when I say two things:  one--you're not stupid and two--both your father and Sirius are likely rolling over in their graves at hearing you suggest Snape was ever right.  But, well, he _some_times is.  Just...well, not if he's calling you stupid.  Okay?"

Harry nodded and bid Remus good bye and, after Hermione left to go serve the rest of her detention with McGonagall, he trudged back towards Gryffindor Tower alone, thinking, _never a dull moment with me around_.   _Way to go, Potter_. 

"You really ought to get revenge on that ferret," Ron said disgustedly to Harry as they made their way out to the pitch for practice.  "He's a menace."

Harry, who had indeed been entertaining the idea of introducing Malfoy to some of the twins' more unstable concoctions, mused, "The problem with someone like Malfoy is that he's such a git as is, what can I possibly do to him to make it worse?"

Ron gaped.  "Hello!!  Try a hex! Any hex!  Some feelers sprouting from his head is a good start!"

Harry shook his head.  "Too unoriginal."

"Could slip him some Puking Pastilles?"

"Too juvenile."

"Vanish his robes as he's walking about the Great Hall?" Katie Bell then suggested as she caught up to them, her broom slung over her shoulder. 

Ron stopped then and nodded with a look of misty-eyed awe.  "_Yes_!" he said emphatically to Harry.  To Katie, he then said, "That's so _brilliant_!"  He clapped his hands twice and then almost bounced up and down.  "What else, what else?" he demanded gleefully

"Well," she said, looking quite scheming.  "Maybe you could then hit him with a Bristol Charm."

"A what?" Harry and Ron chorused.

"Bristols," she said, rolling her eyes at them.  "You know--," she then pressed her palms against her chest as she mouthed, "_breasts_?"

Ron's Cleansweap then whacked Harry soundly in the back of his head as as Ron promptly tripped over his own feet and tumbled in a heap to the snow-covered ground.  "Erm, er, um...." Ron stammered as Harry grimaced and rubbed the smarting welt on his head.  "Sorry...I, er lost control there of my broom..."

"Maybe not, Katie," Harry said scowling down at the red-faced Ron.  "I'd hate to see what Ron'd lose control of if he ever saw--"

"Hurry up!" Ginny yelled from the air then.  "The rest of us have been down here for ten minutes already!  What happened to Ron?" she asked as she flew lower. 

"Nothing!" Ron shouted as he hastily stood up and brushed off the snow from his Quidditch robes.  "We're coming!" 

Harry watched Katie then mount her broom and fly up to join Ginny in the air and then both head on over to the pitch.  Turning, he saw Ron scowl as he commanded his broom up. 

"You like her?" he asked Ron with a sly grin.

Ron then whipped his head around so fast to look at Harry that his Cleansweep sprang upright and smacked him right in the face.  "_Fuck_!" Ron swore.

"That's not an answer, mate," Harry said, still grinning.  "An ambition, perhaps, but not an answer.  Do you like her then?"  He had a sneaking suspicion that Ron did. 

"I--I never said--why would you--no--I--" Ron protested at once.

But Harry's grin just got bigger as they started to walk again towards the pitch.  "Really?  You sure you don't want to see _her_ br--"

"Harry!" Ron said in a high, panicked voice that made Harry break into laughter.   "It's not funny, Harry!" Ron said.  "You--you can't--"

"Ron," Harry said, trying to speak through his chuckles.  "Just _admit it_.  Besides, I think she likes you, too."

"No!  And don't say things like--wait--_what_?"

Harry grinned triumphantly now.  "Ask her out."

"No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Come _on_."

"Harry--_no_!"

"_Why not?"_

"_Because_--hey--what happened to planning revenge on Malfoy?" Ron demanded as they reached the pitch. 

Harry shrugged.  "Forget it, you like Katie."  He grinned merrily as Ron's face flushed at this statement. 

"Hey, Harry!" Katie then called, making Ron burn an even more brilliant red.  "Let the Bludgers loose!"

As Harry went to unlatch the Bludgers from their case, he looked over at Ron.  "I'll make a deal with you," he said as one black Bludger and then the other whizzed up and away.  "If you get Katie to go out with you, then we'll plan revenge on Malfoy." 

Ron looked dumbfounded at this proposition. 

"Think about it, Ron.  If you don't do it, Malfoy walks off without a single hex."  Harry knew this was just about the only thing that might motivate Ron to do anything as bold as to ask Katie out.  "Deal?"

Ron continued to stare, open-mouthed, at Harry for almost a full minute before finally snapping his jaw closed, cocking his head to the side and asking uncertainly, "Will you turn him into a ferret?"

Harry grinned.  It was a detention from McGonagall if she caught him ever using her lessons about transfiguring human into animals on any student like a certain Slytherin, but, Harry figured this just might be worth it.  "Three weeks until the next Hogsmeade.  You ask her out by then and I'll turn him into a ferret _and_ bounce him."

Ron, grinning widely, nodded and shook Harry's hand.  "_Deal_."

* * *

REMINDER: You can find chapter files, a discussion forum, and other dedicated and outrageously Potter-obsessed readers at my Yahoo group for this fic. There is a link on my bio page to the group. The Yahoo group name is: HPAoF. Cheers!

* * *


	53. Chapter 56 Detentions and Dungeons

* * *

**WARNING!!!** _There is sex in this chapter. It's quite integral with the characters and not overly graphic. It is much more "smut-with-substance" than "plot-what-plot" sex so it remains the same in both the and Yahoo Group version. (I'd give it an R rating, but not a NC-17. And…er, trust me, I've seen NC-17. Don't ask.)_

**Chapter 56.**** Detentions and Dungeons**

Harry nudged Ron with an elbow as they sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. He'd been doing this each day for the past three days any time Katie Bell would happen to walk by or sit near them and each time Harry did this, Ron never failed to flush a brilliant red.

This time Ron also nudged back, _hard._

"_Oomf_!" Harry grunted as he leaned over across his specially prepared and Dobby-provided lunch plate and muttered, "Damnit, I'm just trying to be helpful." He leaned away just in time to avoid a second sharp jab from Ron.

Checking once to make sure that Katie, now seated four seats down and across, wasn't looking, Ron then furiously whispered, "Shh! I don't want her to know! What if she saw that?"

"Saw what?" Harry grumbled as he lifted his arm out to rub the sore spot on his ribs. "Ron, I think she's going to have to know sooner or later—like when you finally ask her—_oomf_"

"_Shhhh_ Ron hissed; drawing looks from several nearby Gryffindors, including an extended glance and amused smile from the objection of discussion.

As Katie looked away again, Harry turned and gave Ron a dirty look and, nodding back towards Katie, said in a low voice, "You're being thick, now just ask her!"

"Don't push me!" Ron said in a shrill whisper. "I…it's got to be—she can't know about it before!"

Harry just looked at Ron. "Er, are you just planning on _surprising_ her into saying yes? Is that your plan?"

Ron just mumbled, looking away hastily. Harry wasn't sure Ron would even work up the nerve before Easter to ask Katie out, much less the next Hogsmeade weekend at this rate. If Harry hadn't said Ron had to ask her out on his own, he'd feel compelled to help him on it. But as it looked now, Draco Malfoy seemed quite safe from any planned revenge attacks until Ron found some nerve. It really was quite a shame.

Harry checked the time as several nearby Gryffindors rose to leave. "Well, I'm off, too" he said then and gathered up his bag.

"Where—why?" Ron asked at once with a panicked look across at Katie who, with Harry gone, would soon be the only other person near Ron.

Harry gave Ron a knowing grin. "Come on, mate. No time like the present. I'm off to Dumbledore's office. Finally got that essay done and so it's no more library work for me. See you later!" Ron didn't look too pleased but Harry could only shake his head. That, and call out, "See you later, Katie!" down the table before snickering at Ron's returning flush.

While working on his own as he'd been researching Blood Alchemy, Harry had had some time to come to terms with some underlying resentment he'd held against Dumbledore for the headmaster's most recent actions that caused part of the prophesy contents to be made public. It had taken Harry recalling the book on prophesies that Hermione had shown him to really make him think twice about blaming Dumbledore for seeming to always be the one who caused the pressure to increase just another notch.

The book had said that beneficiaries of prophecies were destined to somehow cause and catalyse events of the prophesy. It had said that no matter what, Dumbledore, as the beneficiary of the prophecy, would be traceable as a cause of the events. At first this made Harry feel even more resentment towards Dumbledore for some of the things that had occurred—mainly Dumbledore's mistake of believing that the Fidelius Charm would protect his parents and allowing Snape to save his life by telling Voldemort the beginning of the prophesy, which, eventually had led to Harry being "marked as an equal" and an orphan. Additionally, Harry had wondered if his parents dying and Dumbledore shunting him off to the live with the Dursleys wasn't also part of the prophesy as he, like Voldemort, was forced to merely exist; surviving but not truly living for almost ten years.

Harry had always entertained thoughts of 'what if' ever since he was old enough to know he wanted something he didn't have. It was enough to drive him mad now with the knowledge that many things he'd endured were both traceable to a decision of Dumbledore's and were unavoidable because of a blasted prophesy. It was difficult indeed to refrain from laying blame at Dumbledore's feet at even the best of times.

One of the things that had helped Harry understand the futility of Dumbledore's role as the prophesy beneficiary was Harry being able to see his own role in the only other prophesy he knew of: the one made the night Wormtail had escaped. That prophesy was made to Harry and, of course, it had been Harry who'd made the decision to not have Wormtail killed, allowing Voldemort's servant to return to him and aid Voldemort back to power. Even despite Harry living through the hours where that prophesy had begun to be executed _twice_ through the use of Hermione's Time-Turner, Wormtail had still escaped as foretold. Through comparing these two prophesies, Harry could begin to understand.

Harry could even see how he, completely against his will, had been used to enable Voldemort to rise up again from his disembodied state. Harry couldn't be blamed for that, he felt. He'd been transported there unwittingly and had no way to fight it. He was lucky to have just survived at all. But yet, he enabled that portion of that prophesy to come true. Of course, thoughts like these also led Harry to wondering about how he could ever avoid enabling the part where Voldemort becomes 'greater and more terrible than ever he was' from ever coming to pass. It was here, when he dwelled upon this, that he could truly conceive of the futility Dumbledore must also have felt for many years and still must feel today.

Finally, Harry reached the gargoyle and rode the stone staircase up to the Headmaster's office and was greeted by a cheery Dumbledore in particularly resplendent robes of a vibrant plum.

"Good afternoon, Harry!" he said with a beaming smile. "I was just telling Fawkes here, how very much I was beginning to miss having you up here regularly for our lessons. I'm glad to be back on schedule. Jammy Dodger?" he then offered, holding out a tin of buscuits.

Harry smiled and shook his head.

"Well then, where were we, ah yes, I've read through your essay, Harry and, let's see, where is it now?" Dumbledore then shuffled through several scrolls in a row; unrolling each, skimming down and then muttering, "Nope, nope, not it."

In the meantime, Harry sat and watched nervously as Dumbledore finally found the right scroll and then proceeded to peer through his silver half-moon glasses as he perused down the length of the essay.

Harry'd never _ever_ had to hand in anything like real homework to Dumbledore before and he now found the experience quite nerve wracking. Plus, he couldn't shake the feeling that Dumbledore was more than a little reluctant to teach Harry about this and that, with the slightest reason to suggest Harry didn't comprehend the enormity of this magical art, instruction would be delayed longer still.

Harry had already spent more than two weeks worth of his private training sessions and numerous additional hours on this essay. He'd hate to admit it but the fact that Hermione's detentions with Snape the past several days had left him free to work late into the night without any interruptions had actually helped him. He'd been able to think more intensively without someone interrupting or having to pause and discuss what he was reading or writing. Not that he felt Hermione's discussions of just about any subject other than Quidditch weren't worthwhile; they were and Harry would never be convinced otherwise. But, alone and without interruption, his mind had a chance to travel forth to conclusions without outside influence and, well, he found he rather liked that. There was something satisfying to him about picking up a thread of thought and following it along until it became a revelation of sorts.

"I see," Dumbledore said, finally setting down the lengthy scroll upon his desk, "that you've been admirably thorough in your research and most insightful in your discussions."

Harry couldn't help but feel a swoop of relief in his stomach at this. "Thank you, sir."

Dumbledore peered over his glasses at Harry keenly for a moment before returning to the parchment in hand. "Yes, yes, some very eloquent suppositions." He peered across at Harry again. "I am impressed."

Harry wasn't sure that statement was good or bad. "I, er, I wanted to be sure it was clear that I am committed to learning this and that I have no illusions as to the potential risks," he said watching Dumbledore's reaction carefully.

"Indeed," Dumbledore said with a grave look as he sighed and allowed the parchment to roll up on its own atop his desk. He looked once at Harry and then smiled as he looked off to the side. Harry wished he knew now what Dumbledore was thinking and it was with a mixture of curiosity and restlessness that Harry watched Dumbledore rise from his chair then approach Fawkes who was preening upon his golden perch.

With a finger held out which Fawkes then used to rub his head against, Dumbledore spoke: "Phoenixes, in my opinion are truly one of the most fascinating beings of the magical world. Now, perhaps I am biased, however, don't you quite agree that they are truly amazing creatures? Is not the power of the phoenix most clearly awesome with its immortal nature?"

Harry began to nod mutely but then, without turning around, Dumbledore continued to speak. "Or what of the inherent wisdom of owls who know secrets as if whispered by the winds? Think, Harry," he said as he finally now turned and face Harry, "think of the Basilisk's power to kill with only a look or the power of a dragon to resist magic from all but a combined effort of the strongest of wizards; these are powers that wizards, generally, just do not possess."

Dumbledore, looking as wearied as ever, then approached Harry. Harry was almost positive Dumbledore had changed his mind about the whole thing and was about to rescind his offer to teach Blood Alchemy.

"But as is the nature of humans, we covet that which we admire and do not have. The question I must ask you, Harry, is can you _see_ the allure of that power? Can you _feel_ it and acknowledge it yet still, through all that, _still_ manage to resist it?"

Harry had expected something like this: some question of whether he might ever be tempted to seek more power in preparation for his eventual meetings with Voldemort. He knew his thoughts on this and steadily met Dumbledore's solemn, untwinkling, blue eyes. "By rights of the prophesy, sir, I believe _have_ all the power I need—without seeking powers on my own. I just need to understand this; not use it." Echoing in the far reaches of Harry's mind was the Sorting Hat telling him, _you could be great you know, it's all here_. But he pushed that thought away. It was not what he was looking for. He did not wish to become an all-powerful wizard.

Dumbledore's gaze was unfaltering. "Power is not the only allure which has beckoned many wiser than you, Harry. Gold, wealth is another allure--"

"I don't care about money," Harry said at once dismissively. "That won't be a problem."

"I never thought it was," Dumbledore answered simply. His clear blue eyes travelled over Harry's face and Harry, reminded himself here to fortify his mind's shields. Stepping forward now, towards Harry, Dumbledore said, "The persistent quest for one's ever more knowledge has been known to lead to mortal disaster more than once. Cannot a thirst for knowing more also lead one past the line of wise experimentation? By now, in your research, Harry, I know you've heard story of more than one wizard whose quest for a little more knowledge ended tragically."

That was certainly true and Harry nodded. He knew this. But again, it did not matter as Harry was not out to discover knowledge any more than he was to gain power or money. Harry wanted an understanding of this magic only so that he could understand how Voldemort used it.

"And what," Dumbledore said as he stood just before Harry, "what do you think one who seeks to find love, who seeks to find someone to love them or who seeks to hold onto the people they love? Might _they_ not be tempted to elevate a slim chance of success above the risk of failure all in the name of protecting or saving someone who is beloved? The need to have love returned, the need to hold on to one who is beloved, or the need to bring back one who has long been gone, Harry. These are _also_ things that can tempt even the most pure intentioned wizard to disregard their own wisdom."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. This hadn't even been something that had crossed his mind. He wasn't…he'd never once thought about…all right, he _had_. He _had_ thought about somehow bringing Sirius back if there had been a way. But that was a long time ago now and there hadn't been any way. It was as simple as that, Harry reassured himself.

Dumbledore shuffled past and, with his hands clasped behind his back, he peered off into the crackling hearth. "It's a difficult thing, Harry, to meet one's own death. But it is altogether more torturous and infinitely more heartbreaking to accept the death of one beloved to you. It's here that I fear for you and that you may someday be tempted to risk a rare success with the use of the magic I shall soon teach you."

Harry wasn't sure what to say. So very many thoughts just ran through his mind; some indignant, others baffled, and some comprehending. He was glad Dumbledore was still looking off into the fire for he was sure his face must have betrayed his muddled reaction.

"The most important rule, Harry, one which must never be broken, when working in the realm of blood magic," Dumbledore turned here and, pulling his glasses down the crooked slope of his nose, intoned, "_never meddle with the dead_."

Harry had never held any such idea within his mind but the tone and severity of Dumbledore's words were spoke such that Harry still felt a false pang of guilt.

"There is magic bound to the soul of a witch or wizard and, after it leaves the realm of the living, we the living, no longer may claim it. It defies nature and belongs elsewhere. A wizard or witch, upon their death may pledge the sacrifice of their death to remain as an earthbound magic, but it is their choice and their choice alone. Your mother, Harry, was an example of a person whose sole intent at the time of her death was to protect you. _That—was—powerful_. She dedicated her entire essence to protecting you. It's with you still.

"There are a great many things one can do with their lives: be it toiling with one's hands, healing the sick, teaching the young or reaping harvest for the table. They are each worthwhile however, one's death can be just as meaningful and even more so. Your mother's is an excellent example of that."

Finally, Dumbledore sighed and gestured with his arms up around the room as he said, "The very walls, floors and staircases of this castle, Harry, are imbued with a sentience and magic imparted by one of the school's founders. Lady Ravenclaw was one who dedicated much of her life to study the consecration of a magical soul. It was an ancient custom, forgotten by most in the time of the founders and unknown to almost all today, for magical folk to plan their death and dedicate themselves as an earthbound entity."

Harry wasn't sure he was following. "You mean like ghosts?" he asked.

Dumbledore's head bobbed from right to left. "Perhaps. A ghost is but one form of an earthbound magical soul. But it is, for most purposes, a waste of a magical soul. All the magic bound to the soul is tied up in conjuring up an ethereal projection of the body that was once bound to the soul. They can move about, talk and communicate with other ghosts and those still alive here, but they cannot affect the living or objects and they, bound in an imitation of life, shall suffer the desires of the living but lack the being and capability to experience any such thing."

Harry thought of his discussion with Nearly Headless Nick last spring. "Nick told me he was afraid of death. But he said he chose to be ghost. Why, if it's a waste, would anyone choose to be one then?"

Dumbledore gave Harry a long look. "Fears and our reactions surrounding them are quite often not at all rational. Look at the recently deceased Mister Planesse—he was murdered and feared that no one would ever know the truth. He said that it was a very conscious decision for him to remain on earth so that the truth would be known. He gave his testimony, he let his story be known and then, with his purpose fulfilled, he realised he had all eternity ahead of him and was bound to an earthly non-existence."

Dumbledore was now back beside Fawkes, watching the scarlet and gold plumed bird snooze. "It is important, Harry, that you realize that one's death may be just as important as their life. Promise me, Harry," he said, turning now to look steadily at Harry, "that you will _never_ forget that."

Harry felt sure there was some specific event that Dumbledore believed might eventually occur and that would tempt Harry in some way to reverse someone's death. His mind immediately thought of Hermione and his heart clenched. It was impossible for him to conceive of wilfully letting her perish; he could _never_ do that, but still, he managed to look Dumbledore in the eye and nod. "I understand."

A weary sadness upon his face, Dumbledore nodded. "Very well, then. Let us now begin. We shall start with something that you've both seen before and which is proven to be a stable and reliable bit of magic: the same Sanguineford Solution, which Hermione brewed before your holiday, ended. With it, one is able to create a potion that may enable a drinker to access and temporarily possess a magical ability of the brewer—as determined by the brewer. But, before we light a fire beneath any cauldron, I'd like you to thoroughly study the potion, create a diagram for it's synthesis and write a full discussion of use of this potion and also why the brewer must be completely focused at all times."

Harry's mouth had dropped open at hearing of yet more library work and he only now snapped it shut upon Dumbledore's amused smile.

"I believe, Harry," he said a twinkle, "that you'd best get used to the library. As you well know by now, our study for very obvious reasons can only progress so far in practical lessons. Far more will be covered by theory and discussion."

And so it was without surprise that Harry spent yet another night in the library even while Hermione still toiled under Snape's watchful eye in detention. Madam Pince kept giving Harry very distrustful looks whenever she'd passed by. Harry couldn't blame her; even _he_ knew it was odd for him to be there without Hermione as an excuse.

Ron had spent part of the evening with Harry but, when Harry proved as boring to be around as Hermione often was in the library and a certain seventh year Gryffindor rose from a nearby table to return to the Common Room, Ron found a sudden need to head back to the tower. Harry just smiled as he left. It was at least progress if Ron was starting to try to be _near_ Katie. It was obvious Ron was hoping that the right words would just suddenly fly from his mouth at the right time and that everything would work out perfect. Harry wasn't so sure, at least, not unless some more Firewhiskey was involved.

As he trudged back alone down the corridors after being shooed out by Madwoman Pince, Harry wondered when the next opportunity for a Common Room party would be. There was a Quidditch match in a week and half between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, just a week before Hogsmeade and he supposed that if Slytherin lost, that was always cause enough for Gryffindors to celebrate. He made a mental note to owl the twins for some more Ogdens. However, he also made a note to _not_ mention a word of what it was for. He had a feeling they'd not be very helpful if they knew Ron fancied Katie.

The Common Room was nearly empty by the time Harry entered through the portrait hole. He saw Ginny and several others of her fellow fifth years looking drained as the weight of their OWL year pressed down upon their shoulders and kept them working at several tables that had been pushed together. None of them had the time or energy to even acknowledge Harry as he walked in and headed over to the empty sofa by the dwindling fire.

With a wave of his wand towards the hearth, the fire roared back to life and Harry stretched out on the cushy, worn sofa. His back ached from being hunched over a library table all evening and the many battered pillows behind him tempted him to drift off to sleep. But before he got too comfortable, Harry drew out what looked like a battered copy of _Quidditch Through the Ages_ from his book bag, a quill and an inkpot before settling in on his side, propped up upon several pillows.

He murmured the password as he held the book and its cover shimmered for a moment before it turned in to a blank, leather-clad diary. Harry carried it with him everywhere and wrote in it daily. The book that Hermione had sent him at the beginning of the last summer holiday was nearly filled by now. As he began to write and sort through his thoughts from the day, he made a note that he'd have to send Hedwig for another book. Perhaps he'd do it when he sent her to ask Fred and George for that Firewhiskey…

Harry was dreaming that he was a cat and sunning himself beneath the warm summer sun. It felt so warm and bright and it made him want to smile. His friends and family were there and laughing with delight at seeing him frolic. It made him happy to hear their joyous words and he wished he could keep them smiling and laughing forever. Then someone began to pet him atop his head and he rolled over, feeling the fingers card through his fur…no, _hair_.

It was hair. He had hair. He was—

"Harry?" Hermione's breath tickled his ear as she whispered his name softly.

"Mmmm," was all he could manage to mumble. "Watch out…inkpot…" he feebly warned.

He felt her laugh beside him. "I already moved that. And the quill and I tucked your book into your bag." He felt Hermione shift beside him and then felt a blanket being pulled from the back of the sofa and draped over him. "How long have you been asleep?" she whispered as he cracked open his eyes to see her slide in beneath the blanket beside him.

Harry felt his body warm instantly as Hermione's settled in beside him. He missed this feeling more than words could ever say. He slipped one arm beneath the pillow upon which Hermione's head now rested and tugged her closer.

"What time is it?" he whispered as he noted she'd also removed his glasses from his face.

"Nearly one," Hermione said as she kissed the tip of his nose.

Harry vaguely wondered if the other fifth years that'd been awake earlier were still in the Common Room. But, judging by the way Hermione was sliding her hands up and down his chest; he assumed they and everyone else must surely be long gone by now.

"You just get back now from detention?" he asked he used his free hand to slide from her elbow to her shoulder and then down her side.

Hermione pouted; her lips pressed together and she furrowed her brow. "I don't' want to talk about it. He's….he…I solemnly swear, Harry, I will never _ever_ again stand up for that despicable…_man_ again. You can call Snape a bastard or a greasy git as many times as you like and I shall always know you've only ever spoken the truth on that."

"That bad?" Harry said as he smirked, leaned in and inhaled the scent of her hair. He couldn't even manage to be bothered that it smelt slightly of potions and the dungeons; it'd simply been far too long since he'd been this close to her…alone.

"I don't even want to talk about it," she said dejectedly.

Harry was glad for her answer and murmured, "Good," before he slid his free hand up and into her hair to pull her mouth to his for a kiss. What Harry now had in mind, had very little to do with any sort of talking.

As his lips made contact with Hermione's and their mouths opened up to one another's, he felt his body resonate with the desire to press against hers until neither could discern where one began and the other ended.

Hermione had already worked one hand beneath his jumper and was steadily tugging out his shirt from the back of his trousers and Harry soon manoeuvred himself on top of her; his mouth still hungering for hers.

Removing clothes seemed quite optional at this point and Harry felt the need to simply press himself into her was far greater than any other silly need like nakedness or even breathing.

"Harry," Hermione gasped as his mouth left her lips to travel lower. "We're…we can't…what if someone comes down?" she protested weakly, her body's response to Harry's kisses belying her spoken reservations.

"They'll think we're busy," Harry said quickly before returning to kiss her mouth thoroughly. "And," _kiss_, "that,", _kiss_, "we" _kiss_, "shouldn't," _kiss_, "be," _kiss_, "disturbed," _kiss_.

Hermione was both allowing herself to be kissed completely and also encouraging him by shifting beneath him so that he lay cradled now between her legs.

"But what if…" she trailed off as Harry's hand slid up her thigh, beneath her skirt and forced her to quite suddenly reprioritise. "Ooh…" she trailed off as she bit her lip to keep quiet.

Harry's fingers found exactly what he was looking for and he grew hotter still with the need to completely disappear within Hermione.

In the past, there had been times where sex between them had made Harry wildly imagine that Hermione, sitting atop him perhaps, was but a beautiful embellishment and extension of a certain portion of his anatomy, which every male already considered glorious. It made him feel larger and more powerful and it rendered him speechless with a heady and euphoric rush of pure hormonal energy. But other times, like tonight, Harry wanted nothing more than to almost dissolve entirely into Hermione and do nothing but leave himself behind, just revelling in the one being that they became when united.

Hermione's hands worked at Harry's trousers, confined by his need to keep their hips firmly pressed together. It took some coaxing, but she finally convinced Harry that this whole ordeal would be much better if he lifted his hips for just one moment and so, could slip down his trousers.

Harry's throat worked to make noise, attempting to vocalise his need; but instead, what came out was more of a growl.

"Harry, shh," Hermione breathed out as he struggled, clumsy with desire, to navigate around her knickers, which, for some reason were still on. "Don't you…oh, think…Harry, ummm, be better if you…oh _god_, oh, mmmmm, oh never…yes, oh yes...mind…" Hermione trailed off as her breathing deepened.

He couldn't sink into her deep enough. The pure bliss of feeling himself inside her was enough to make him breathless for air and feel almost as if he were plummeting down through water; it's wetness seeping in all around him and surrounding him entirely. He was drowning and he could not have been more willing.

He was kissing her; trying to inhabit her mouth with his own and revelling in the taste and feel of her tongue on his. He was breathing in every scent and nuance of her skin and hair; it all served to saturate his senses and help him spiral down and out of control. His arms, from shoulder to fingertips, demanded to be in full contact with her and he kept them wrapped around her in an attempt to blur the lines of her and him even more. And somehow, through all this, he was still thrusting; each thrust another attempt to become a part of her.

Hermione's hands were both tangled in Harry's hair and as she responded to his unvoiced need to surrender, she cradled his head into the crook of her neck and shoulder; sliding her hands into his hair in time with his thrusts into her.

How she knew what he needed, she could never put into words. She simply knew that Harry would sometimes seem to lose himself and that his being could then nearly consume her. She could feel his pain, his burdens and his hopes in these moments and it was enough to make her weep. It wasn't merely physical this pain; it was more. It was more of an agony tied to the simple fact of being human that no physical touch could alleviate. In her mind, she imagined them two souls, amorphous and unhinged from their bodies, free to rise up and entwine around the other. The bliss liberated their minds from their bodies and the physical pleasure their bodies still enjoyed was but secondary.

By the time they both realised it had ended, they each suspected the sex had actually ended several minutes before. Harry began to feel his body again when he felt Hermione kissing his dampened brow. Short wisps of breath were tickling his forehead as he realised she was whispering.

"_I love you, I love you, I love you_," his ears finally discerned as her kisses and whispers moved from his brow to his cheek and then to his ear. He was too numb to protest and it took all the strength and coordination he possessed to lift his head and press his lips to hers. The first feeling he registered was a pain in his heart from not being able to tell her those same words himself.

Hermione waited patiently for Harry to pull up his trousers and they each felt quite pleased with themselves for managing to finally get together without even having to sneak about the castle late at night to manage it.

Harry cleared his throat as he stood, gathering his things. "Perhaps we should just wait down here for everyone else to clear out more often?" he said with a suggestive raise of the brow and lopsided grin.

Hermione smiled back and just opened her mouth when a deep voice loudly cleared its throat.

Both Harry and Hermione jumped and turned, relieved to see that it was merely a portrait of a knight who looked extremely put out.

"Erm, perhaps not, Harry," Hermione said in a high, strained voice and then tugged him away from the portrait who was eyeing them beadily and on towards the stairwells where they then kissed good night.

For the first time in weeks, Harry was finally able to fall asleep utterly relaxed.

He even woke up relaxed and went all the way through from Charms class to Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Snape in a rather chipper mood. Very little could have ruined Harry's mood but, as really should not be surprising, it was Snape who took a shot and succeeded when he reminded Harry that, while Hermione's detentions had finally ended, Harry's were just about to begin.

"Just don't _say_ anything," Hermione advised him as he finished his dinner in the Great Hall. "No matter what, Harry, _don't_ rise to his taunts. He just wants to take more points off—don't let him."

It was certainly sound advice but that had little to do with whether or not Harry could actually follow it.

Harry trudged his way down to the dungeons and dreaded seven nights of detentions with Snape more and more with each step. He'd have to close off his mind completely. Not even let in the words or taunts that Snape was bound to say to him. He could recite Charms incantations in his head and perhaps succeed in showing no reaction whatsoever to whatever Snape had planned to snarl at him. By the time Harry entered the potions classroom, he felt prepared for battle.

However, that first night of detention, Snape just pointed one long sallow finger towards a barrel of Mushroom-Headed Slobber Eels and intoned, "There's ninety in there. Enough for five flasks of mucus to be collected." He then sent the giant flasks shooting across the room to land in front of Harry. "That is, if you work hard enough. I expect nothing less," he said imperiously and then left the classroom.

He did not return until five minutes to midnight, just before the end of detention, to observe Harry milking the remaining three Eels and topping off the last flask. It had been a most disgusting task as Harry had to hold the head of each Eel down near the mouth of the flask and then milk them by squeezing with the other hand all the way along to the head until white mucus spurt out of the pustule nob atop the head. He made due, however, by imagining that he was squeezing Snape's neck.

The second night, Harry was stayed from serving detention to attend the Order meeting. Unfortunately, it was over so quickly that Snape "graciously" offered to allow Harry to still serve a detention that night. "All the more quickly you can get them done and over with," he'd said smarmily. As McGonagall and Dumbledore had nodded that it did indeed seem gracious, Harry felt he had little option but to agree. But that did not stop him from grumbling behind Snape's back as he followed him to the dungeons and thought, '_gracious' my arse, he's just thinking' it's all the more likely to make me miserable to take away a Friday night and make me groggy for Saturday Quidditch practice. Bastard._

For the second night, Snape had just pointed into the corner of the potions lab where a pile of soiled cauldrons were stacked and intoned, "The first years' class ran out of time this morning and so, were unable to scour their cauldrons. I told them I knew you'd be delighted to do it," and he then left Harry alone yet again.

It only took a peek into one cauldron to recognize they were each coated with sticky orange Pyre Poultice, a paste that was used to heal and soothe burns and that, when left to dry, apparently became rock hard and extremely difficult to remove from the inside of an iron cauldron.

Twenty minutes into scrubbing the first cauldron, Harry had shed his robe and jumper because he was sweating so profusely from the effort. An hour later though, he'd worked out a system of cracking the dried paste and then banging it out while holding the cauldrons upside-down. With the racket it was making, he'd first expected Snape to come charging in, sneer in place and docked points on the tongue, but he never did. Harry almost felt disappointed.

The tediously dull task of cleaning the cauldrons at least left Harry able to allow his mind to wander freely. He's planned the next two practical lessons for the third years' Defense class as well as planned out the next month's schedule for Quidditch practices. He had just been pondering how to create some new diversionary tactics for the Beaters to master when the faintest rustle of a cloak caught his attention barely in time for Harry to turn and see Snape standing there; his cloak still swinging about his ankles and his wand pointed out at Harry.

Harry was positive that Snape had been hoping to catch Harry unawares. He had a distinct feeling that if he'd not turned in time; some spell would have sizzled in his direction.

"Not napping, were you, Potter?" Snape sneered as he tucked his wand away delicately and then strode into the room, inspecting Harry's stacks of scrubbed cauldrons with a frown.

Harry didn't answer; he thought the stack of nearly seventy cauldrons was more than enough to evidence his hard work for the night.

"Hmm," Snape murmured as he sniffed the inside of one of the cauldrons. "I'd think you'd have learned by now, Potter, that you ought not let down your guard when you're out of Gryffindor territory." One inky black eyebrow arched up pointedly at this and he then went on to say, "Have you yet considered all the possible and nefarious means to which your lost locks may be lending themselves? Hmm?"

Harry really hated to even think about the fact that someone, somewhere (likely a certain Slytherin), had his hair and all the time in the world to do whatever he or she pleased with it but now, with Snape reminding him, Harry wanted to scream. It was one thing to know he made a mistake it was entirely another thing to have it rubbed in his face by Snape. _Snape_—, who Harry thought should be held at least partially responsible for knowing what his Slytherins are all up to and also be responsible for keeping them in line.

Snape, with his hands clasped behind his back, strolled along the rows of cleaned cauldrons as Harry toiled away on the last three. As he worked, Harry could feel Snape's fathomless black eyes upon him. The previous three hours seemed to not have taken as long as the last three cauldrons did to clean what with Snape's looming about.

As Harry finished the final cauldron and turned it upside-down to dry, he eyed the clock that was almost at midnight.

"You do realise you're to remain here until one o'clock?" Snape then asked with a smirk. "Only then will you have served a full _four_ hour detention."

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes and only managed to keep his jaw clenched by listening to Hermione's voice within his head chant, _ignore his taunts_.

"Yes," Snape said with a sneer. "You've worked faster than I expected as well. But not to worry, you've got your books and you did say that you'd meant to go to the library after tonight's little meeting. Take a seat and find something worthwhile to work on."

Harry could hardly believe he'd be allowed to get anything useful done here in a detention but yet, he was willing to give it a try if it meant Snape would leave him alone. The one thing Harry was learning about Snape was that the man was both unreasonable and irascible and therefore, was all together much better if avoided at all costs.

"You do have something worthwhile to work on, don't you, Potter?" Snape asked in dangerous tone as Harry took his usual seat from Potions class.

"Yes, I do. _Sir_," Harry replied with as little emotion as possible. He then pulled out his working notes for Dumbledore's most recent assignment as Snape stood watching him. Finally, after Harry stared at his parchment for over five minutes wondering why Snape insisted on staring at him, Snape finally turned and busied himself at his desk.

When the castle clock was heard chiming once, Harry looked up, surprised the time was already up and, as he left, Snape said, "Make sure to bring extra work tomorrow evening and I don't recommend being caught out of bed on your way back to your tower. It won't due to have Mister Filch wishing to schedule you for detention when you own me five more. Out!"

Harry grumbled the entire way back and boldly marched down the corridors on his way back to Gryffindor Tower. He'd had enough of keeping his mouth shut in front of Snape that he was almost welcoming a run-in with Filch. At least Filch he could mouth off to. Unfortunately, the only ones Harry got a chance to vent his anger upon were a few disgruntled portraits who objected to his heavy footsteps.

The next night of detention, Harry arrived and Snape was already seated at his desk, marking scrolls with broad strokes of red ink (Harry recognized it well).

"Well?" he said as Harry entered and looked around for the night's menial task. "Did you not bring something to work on?"

"What?" Harry was stunned. How could Snape not have prepared a tortuous and disgusting task for the evening?

Snape glowered from his desk. "Did I not tell you last night, Potter, to—"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said as he dropped his bag upon a workbench. "I…just thought I'd have other stuff to do first."

"If you've nothing to work on, I can get Mister Filch in here. He's bound to have something that needs scrubbing?"

It was a testament to how much Harry truly hated Snape that he actually considered a detention with Filch to be more preferable to spending four hours in the same room with Snape even if it wasn't spent on a disgusting task. However, Harry wasn't about to tell this to Snape and, instead, got down to more work on Dumbledore's assignment.

Harry was just finishing off a flowchart of ingredients to be prepared and added in order to brew the Sanguineford Solution for Dumbledore. This really was a very difficult potion and Harry had never ever brewed anything as difficult all on his own. He was beginning to wonder if Dumbledore would observe throughout the brewing when a sudden slap of a palm upon his desk, made him jump.

"Let's see what you're working on," Snape commanded.

"What?"

"Hand. It. Over."

There was a very big difference between being at Grimmauld Place where Harry had every right to be and behave how he saw fit and being at Hogwarts where Snape had the ability to dock House points and assign even more detentions as fast as he could fabricate an excuse. So, despite Harry not wanting Snape to see any bit of what he was working on, he felt he had very little choice in the matter as Snape snatched the parchments off the desk. Harry felt a sinking feeling in his gut as Snape beadily eyed down the first page, then the second and finally the third which held a myriad collection of notes, questions and one very crude sketch of an anatomically correct mandrake. Harry merely had to count the seconds until—

"For which class is this an assignment," Snape hissed softly as he continued to peruse the parchments in his hand.

The tone in Snape's voice alone had Harry bracing for an all-out confrontation. "It's for Professor Dumbledore," he answered curtly.

Snape lowered the parchments from his inspection and looked at Harry penetratingly. "Professor Dumbledore," he repeated sardonically.

Harry nodded once.

Snape's lips pursed and he jerked the parchments still clutched in his fist back up to his face. With his lank hair falling about his face, Snape seemed to now read carefully each word on each of the three parchments as Harry sat there; waiting and feeling more and more fed up with Snape's meddlesome ways. After several minutes where Harry was formulating some choice descriptions of a certain greasy bastard, Snape asked, "The headmaster has asked you to prepare to brew this potion?"

Harry, wishing Snape would stop standing over him, smugly replied, "Yes."

"Why?" Snape asked with narrowed eyes.

"You'll have to ask Professor Dumbledore."

"_What_ is he trying to teach you that this would be assigned?"

Harry glared back at Snape. "You know, Professor, you're the one who told me that Dumbledore was renowned as a Blood Alchemist; I should think that it would be obvious just what he's set to teach me!"

A flicker of triumph appeared in Snape's dark eyes but was gone so quickly that Harry doubted he'd ever seen it. Snape then smacked the parchments back onto Harry's desk and prowled slowly around Harry's workstation. "You asked him then?" Snape said softly from just behind Harry. "You asked him to teach you?"

Snape sounded like he knew the answer and that the answer quite pleased him. Harry wanted nothing to do with confirming something that would please Snape.

Snape then rounded in front of Harry and leaned across the desk with his teeth bared. "You did, didn't you," he said without asking for any confirmation.

Harry could see where this was going to go; it would likely involve the phrase: _you're a power-hungry, arrogant fool, just like your father_.

"It's about time."

Harry goggled at Snape, doubting for several seconds that this greasy haired man in front of him wearing a smug smile was indeed the same Snape who Harry knew and hated. "Wha—"

"You heard me, Potter," Snape said smugly as he straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest. "It's about time you stop sloughing off and begin to apply yourself to your responsibilities. I've been telling the headmaster for _years_ that—"

Snape's face was suddenly torn into a terrible grimace and his entire body stiffened as his right hand clenched down upon his left forearm upon the very spot where Harry knew the Dark Mark to be.

"Sir?" Harry hadn't ever actually seen Snape, or any other Death Eater for that matter, respond to a summons from Voldemort, but he assumed at once that this was what it must be. "Is it Vol—"

"Shut up!" Snape spat. "Shut—_up_!" His jaw was clenched, his eyes were screwed shut and Harry could see Snape was notably pale and was leaning upon the nearest workbench in order to remain standing.

Harry stood up and, because he did not know what else to do, he took several steps towards Snape, looking for some direction to do something. With a gasp, Snape's eyes opened and he straightened himself up, glaring at Harry who was standing before him. "Sit back down! You've still got a detention to finish!" he barked irritably.

_So much for being concerned_, Harry thought as he took a step backwards, still keeping an eye on Snape.

"No—Potter, you shouldn't remain here. You…" It looked as if whatever Snape had to say was causing him great pains. "I need to leave here immediately."

Harry nodded. "Right, that was Voldemort call—"

"Potter!" Snape snapped, making Harry jump.

"What?!"

"_Don't—say—the—name!!"_

As always, this seemed ridiculous, but tonight, more than ever, Harry thought it was completely unreasonable. "Excuse me?" he said waspishly. "I'll say 'Voldemort' if I damn well please!"

"Damn you—"

"I'm the one you all bloody expect to kill the sodding bastard!"

"_I swear to Merlin, Potter, if you_—"

"And _you_, Snape, _you're_ about to go run off to meet with him now—at the least I'd think you should do is be able to say his name!"

"POTTER!" Snape bellowed now as he brandished his wand, pointing it directly at Harry.

In that instant, Harry froze, aware he was telling Snape off in the middle of a detention after Snape had just received a summons from Voldemort and that Snape had his wand trained upon him while Harry's wand was still tucked away.

Harry could see Snape's overly large nostrils flaring with anger as he glared across the classroom.

_Bollocks! _

With the faintest sign of a curse from Snape, Harry was ready to dive to the floor and fight back. He could feel his heart beating wildly in his chest and he was almost _itching_ for a fight. His glare locked with Snape's.

And then Snape sighed heavily and pocketed his wand with a glance at the clock on the wall.

Disappointment welled within Harry but he didn't have time to ponder why because Snape was now instructing him: "Pack up your things, Potter and return immediately to Gryffindor Tower. You'll owe me another hour of detention tomorrow night." Harry stared dumbly at Snape. "_Now_!"

Harry didn't wait to be told again and was out of the potions classroom in a flash and feeling a distinct amount of pent-up adrenaline that made him wonder if he'd get in trouble for taking his Firebolt out for a few speeding laps around the Quidditch pitch. He definitely wished that Snape had gone ahead and tried to curse him; then Harry could have had an excuse to curse him back. Maybe it was because the only other time he'd ever really crossed wands with Snape, Snape had seemed to get the better of him or maybe it was because Harry just really wanted to curse Snape to hell and back but either way, Harry admitted to himself that he longed for a fight with Snape.

The DA, since it had started up again this term, was mostly turning into a practical study session for many of the sixth and seventh years and a chance to have a go at advanced spells for the younger members. There was only so much Harry felt he could actually teach them that they wouldn't learn on their own in classes or that wouldn't make it overly obvious that he'd been trained over holidays by various Aurors.

He had a pair of Boggarts by now that he would control and force into the guise of a Dementor so that each night as the DA met, someone could step forward and have a go at producing their Patronus in its presence. It was somewhat tiring and it did make Harry feel like he always had spent his time doing something positive, but the DA no longer was a place to vent his aggressions or feel like he was actively doing something to advance himself or his skills. It was for others and left him wanting something more. He was used to duelling Tonks or Remus or Moody; there weren't any students in the DA who he felt he'd want to challenge when the sessions turned into duelling pairs.

Maybe he'd been wrong to pursue the study of Blood Alchemy with Dumbledore. Perhaps that time could have been spent on having Dumbledore teach him more refined fighting tactics. _But, wait a minute_, Harry paused as he rounded a corner and began to ascend the stairs to the main floor, _what had Snape said about_ _it being about time that he began taking his responsibilities seriously?_ Snape had said he'd been telling Dumbledore this for years—did this mean Snape had believed Harry was right to be studying this now?

"Hurry up!" a frantic voice suddenly whispered from somewhere above the staircase, causing Harry to freeze.

"Are you sure it's this way? I thought it was on the second floor," a second, female voice said.

Harry could recognize neither voice and he breathed a sigh of relief as he heard their footsteps retreat further from the corridor above. _Just students_, he reassured himself. He wished he'd had his Invisibility Cloak with him but he'd lent it to Ron the night before when he'd a midnight craving. Thinking it was best to take precaution, especially if other students were out and about and likely to cause Filch to be snooping around, Harry quickly took out his wand and rapped himself upon the head, casting a Disillusionment Charm.

He shivered as the tickling, trickling sensation of cold water rippled down his body and he then held out his hands for inspection. Seeing them almost shimmer with translucence, allowing him to blend in flawlessly with the stone walls and floors of the castle, Harry felt satisfied that he was safe from any prowling eyes and began to ascend the staircase again.

He was just passing by the doors to the Great Hall though, when he distinctly heard the drawling voice of Draco Malfoy. "They don't know how lucky they are. They should feel honoured to have been chosen! Honestly, Father always said it was—"

Harry flattened himself against an alcove beside the doors as a second voice arose, whispering, "Stuff it, we're trying to sneak around here. You might want to keep your mouth shut."

Harry's eyes were peeled wide-open and he scanned the Entrance Hall and surrounding area for Malfoy or the other person. He wasn't sure, but he guessed the second voice to have belonged to Nott. It had sounded like the voices were coming nearer but he just wasn't seeing anyone.

"Don't be ridiculous, no one can see us under this," Malfoy's voice said clearly across the Entrance Hall.

Harry smiled; he guessed it was either the same charm he was under or an Invisibility Cloak. Both of which he wouldn't be surprised to know Malfoy had at his disposal. Discreetly, Harry shouldered both straps of his book bag for more freedom of movement and took out his wand. He silently waved it in a slow circle above his head in order to gradually increase his Perimeter Charm. He was hoping to catch the feel of Malfoy and his partner breeching the charm and thereby locating their position but Malfoy, being the daft idiot he was, was making this even easier by continuing to talk.

"I've been telling Father for ages I needed one of these to properly spy on Potter and his pals. He'll be furious to find out I bought one but he'll have to admit it was worth it after I get through with Potter. I can't wait!"

"Shh! And you'd _better_ wait; you know this little plan of yours is optional. If it looks like it could go wrong, it's not going down at all. I don't fancy being dressed down for your obsession with Potter."

Harry was so caught up listening to them talk about _him_ that he almost missed the creepy sensation of them crossing his Perimeter Charm. Malfoy and friend were mere meters away from Harry and heading down the same staircase from which Harry had just come. It took only a second for Harry to decide to follow them.

"_Obsession_?" Malfoy spat. "I don't have an obsession! I just think he needs to be shown a lesson or two. I don't see anyone else willing to take him on around here."

"That's because _some_ of us would rather not have our allegiances broadcast to the entire school."

"Are you ashamed?" Malfoy taunted as Harry continued to trail them down the stairs. Harry was simultaneously trying to listen intently to their conversation, make sure he made no noise and recall some helpful charms from Moody's training in Stealth and Tracking. Although, with the way they were talking, Harry didn't need any help following them along.

"Shame has nothing to do it. It's much more to do with a healthy respect for prison and knowing that no one will want to hire a Death Eater besides another Death Eater. Are you sure you can break the wards on Snape's office?"

Harry pulled up short behind them as he realised they'd stopped walking and were all standing just outside Snape's office. He quickly took two steps backwards and flattened himself against the wall.

"It's can't be that hard," Malfoy murmured and then, with a shimmer, the cloak was pulled down, revealing both Malfoy and Nott. "No more need for that. Snape's gone for the rest of the night now and with Filch busy cleaning that mess on seventh floor; we've no one to bother us. Besides," he said as he smirked knowingly at Nott and trailed a finger down the edge of a line of brick, "I know things that come in ever so handy."

Harry watched as Malfoy seemed to almost dissolve into the wall, reaching out at the last moment to grab Nott before they both disappeared with a sudden _pop!_ into the quite solid-looking stone wall. Harry blinked in disbelief.

* * *


	54. Chapter 57 Lurking Invisible

* * *

**Chapter 57.**** Lurking Invisible**

Harry had went from staring dumbly at the wall outside Snape's office to bolting up the stairs towards Dumbledore's office and then to a slow walk as his mind raced.

_Malfoy must be after potions ingredients. _

Malfoy had been overheard talking about difficulty finding some before Christmas holiday and now, with the missing locks of hair, a potion of nefarious use was what Dumbledore, Moody and even Snape had all seemed to dread most.

Harry paused just a corridor away from Dumbledore's office.

_What's Dumbledore going to do? Should I have followed them? No. Definitely not._ Harry ran a hand through his hair and paced over to a tall corridor window. _Dumbledore would want to gain as much information from this as possible and prevent Malfoy or whomever from getting on with their plan. But wait—he'd want to know what the plan was before stopping it. Or, _and Harry found this next thought most frustrating_, he'd want to wait for the plan to be set into motion before stopping it—just in case Malfoy or whomever wasn't really intent on carrying it out. _

It was classic Dumbledore: assume the best of intentions and only after malicious intent was obviously in action would counteraction be taken. It was Harry's first instinct to keep this information from Dumbledore and handle it himself. But how could he spy on Malfoy or the other Slytherins? Snape supposedly had set up various Eyes and Ears for his use but if Snape had uncovered anything unsavoury over the year, he'd not shared it and had likely taken care of it himself. Harry wracked his brain for what he should do.

_Think, Potter! You're supposed to be the eventual leader of the Order and if you can't figure out how to handle this situation then_….

Harry took a deep breath and wished Hermione were here for advice.

_Malfoy is down in Snape's office all alone…well, with Nott. They have no rush since they somehow knew Snape had been called away. They're likely gathering every and anything they need for their little scheme right now_… Harry snapped his fingers. …_gathering ingredients, which, after investigating the remaining ingredients and deducing which were take, could then help point out whatever it is their planning to brew! _

Harry spun on his heel and set off for Gryffindor Tower causing several portraits to mumble and turn their heads towards the sound of Harry's briskly retreating footsteps.

_"You didn't go after them?!"_

Ron's incredulous look and fist pounding down upon the Common Room table was enough to make Harry vacillate yet again with doubt about not having pursued Malfoy and Nott last night. But it only took him a moment to recall the eerie sight of the two Slytherins being sucked into the wall beside the door to Snape's office.

Harry shook his head. "No, Ron, what was I _supposed_ to do? Chance being sucked into a room alone with two people who, just minutes before, were plotting against me? In a room, I might add, that just _happened_ to also be Snape's office? What if I got trapped in there with those two? What if it led somewhere other than his office?" Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

After returning to the Tower the previous night, Harry had thought up several more reasons and justifications for his actions, or, lack of actions. Harry had seen no appeal whatsoever in being possibly trapped in a room where his enemies outnumbered him two-to-one and he'd found the whole wall-sucking thing quite unappealing.

"Besides," Harry added with a raised-brow look towards Hermione who was worrying her lower lip in contemplation, "I was thinking they might be sneaking into the office to steal potions ingredients."

The look on Ron's face went from indignant outrage to alarm at this last statement. "_Harry!_ What if he's planning to make some potion and use your hair!? What—what—" Ron sputtered to a stop as Harry lunged across the Common Room table and covered Ron's mouth with a hand. Ron's eyes flashed wildly over then towards Hermione in a look of disbelief.

Hermione further shushed Ron with a disproving look and said, "_I_ think Harry did the right thing."

Ron looked as if he'd like to loudly argue this belief but Harry kept his hand over his mouth as Hermione continued. "There's no way Harry could have known what would have happened if he'd have touched that wall. Plus, this way, we can assume that Malfoy _did_ manage to get whatever he'd been after."

Hermione was giving Harry a knowing look as she spoke and he could feel their minds working and thinking along the same paths. He smiled as he leaned back across the table and said, "So all we need to do is let Snape know what I saw and have him check his storeroom again to see what was missing."

"Which means," Hermione continued, "that we'll be able to then get some hints as to what Malfoy might be up to if he _is_ brewing some potion just by examining whatever was stolen from Snape's office."

Harry nodded, feeling pleased with last night's decision at Hermione's obvious approval. Ron, however, just scowled causing Hermione to demand, "What?"

Ron couldn't meet her eyes and looked away with exasperation before saying, "And you both trust Snape? _Really_ trust him, I mean?"

"Oh, of _course_ we do—and you should too!" Hermione snapped irritably.

"You've said that before but—"

"Oh, _honestly_—what do you think—that Dumbledore's just being led along all this time and is secretly being hoodwinked by him?" Hermione hissed in a heated whisper as she slammed down her quill. "You may not like him but we _can_ be sure of what side he's on!"

"Krum doesn't trust him," Ron countered with a dark look at Hermione.

The rapidly rising color in Hermione's cheeks alerted Harry that he really ought to step in before this escalated into an all out argument.

"Ron—I can assure you that Snape knows enough to betray the Order several times over by now if he wanted to," Harry said in a controlled effort to ease Ron's suspicions.

This was surely true, Harry felt that just knowing Snape _could_ have betrayed them all by now but _hadn't_ was, in a roundabout way, evidence of his loyalty. Snape had known the full contents of the prophecy for over a half-year now. Snape had suffered through at least one of Voldemort's _'lessons'_ and kept this secret which, had he wanted, could have been used to exalt his standing with Voldemort.

But Ron didn't look convinced. "How do you _know_ he hasn't? How do you know he didn't do just that last night when he was called to his _master_?"

Harry exchanged a quick glance with Hermione; he knew she wasn't Snape's biggest fan after her seven nights of hellish detentions but he also knew that she, like Harry more or less, believed that Snape was on their side. More or less.

"Look, Ron, it's like this—of _course_ he could change, of course he _could_ be snowing us all. But, I just…I guess I just don't think he is." Harry found that as he said these words, he really did believe them true. Ron's eyes showed doubt and Harry said, "You've not heard him—he had to tell me a bit about how Death Eaters get their Marks. He wasn't recalling fond memories, Ron; he was bitter—and _resentful_ about it."

Hermione then said in a low voice, "The way I see it, Snape clearly has a lot to gain by supporting our side and helping to defeat Voldemort."

Ron shuddered and grimaced then as Harry added, "You know, I hate to say this, but there've even been times where…well, it's not been obvious or anything but, it's almost like he's occasionally given me a break or done things that just happened to aid my training."

Ron guffawed and Harry went on. "No, like he didn't _have_ to assign me the one assignment on poisons in potions. He had the four projects and the other three weren't nearly as applicable to something that I could come up against. Well, except for the healing stuff."

Ron didn't look convinced while Hermione appeared contemplative.

"Plus," Harry went on, "there's been the last two nights in detention where, if he had nothing else for me to do, he let me just do homework. Now it is possible Dumbledore perhaps asked him to do this but, still, he _could_ have had me writing lines or scrubbing floors with a toothbrush--_something_."

Ron looked shocked and asked, "How could Snape not have some disgusting task for you? _You_!?"

"Well what more could have possibly needed doing?" Hermione said crossly. "He already had me for seven nights down there. I'd already catalogued, relabelled, refilled, dusted, scrubbed, scoured, reorganised, quantified and alphabetized every jar, flask and stock in that horrid and rotting dungeon of his!"

Ron looked taken aback at Hermione's outburst.

"Plus," Harry said quietly as if Hermione hadn't just ranted at all. "He said something to me last night. It was really odd." Hermione and Ron were looking now at Harry; each had their mouths slightly agape. "I'm not sure what he meant but, when he saw the potion research I'd been doing for Dumbledore and found out what Dumbledore was teaching me, he…he looked _smug_."

Both Hermione and Ron looked equally disbelieving at this.

Harry leaned forward across the table and in a low voice added, "He even said, 'it's about time'."

"I don't like this," Ron said at once, shaking his head.

"Harry," Hermione said carefully, "have you figured why Dumbledore's been hesitant to teach you Alchemy?"

Harry looked away, glancing quickly at Ron who was scowling darkly into space. "Er, he was just concerned that I understand the risks involved." Harry thought of Dumbledore's admission that he was concerned about Harry's _'saving people thing'_. "He was just being cautious." Harry didn't much fancy the idea of Hermione joining Dumbledore in his concern.

Hermione almost looked disappointed. "Oh."

"Well, I think you're mad, Harry," Ron said. "Mad if you don't keep your eye on Snape. If it were me—I'd drop anything that seemed to make Snape happy."

Harry didn't answer Ron as Hermione rolled her eyes and announced she had things to do in the Library and prefect duties to attend. The truth was, somewhere in Harry's mind, he found himself really wanting to believe that Snape's comment had somehow been an actual compliment. Harry wouldn't allow his conscious mind to actively acknowledge it or even consider it but, nevertheless, he couldn't stifle the sneaking suspicion.

His confidence in his action (or lack thereof) from the previous night had been boosted enough by Hermione's agreement that Harry had written up a quick note. The note described his encounter with Malfoy and Nott, laid out his reasoning on the event and then proceeded to recommend that the stocks from the office been inventoried as soon as possible. As the note was to be replicated and sent off to all of the Inner Council, Harry could see clearly that, as he himself was set to serve detention with Snape for a few remaining nights, he might as well volunteer to do it himself.

He felt quite pleased with the note that he'd sent off via the Order's cauldron post. He'd managed to observe something potentially useful without being detected at all, he had what he felt to be sound reasoning for his actions, and, best of all, he had a plan to further investigate and divine more information from the entire incident. All in all, Harry felt like he'd handled it quite well.

"Did you get my cauldron post this morning, Professor?" Harry asked immediately upon entering Dumbledore's office for their Sunday afternoon session.

Dumbledore had barely nodded once before Harry noticed Moody was also present.

Moody nodded in greeting as he barked, "Yeh see why constant vigilance is needed? Eh? Aye, I'd give my other leg to have been there with you last night." He jabbed a gnarled thump up towards he electric blue magical eye then. "I'd have been able to keep my eye on 'em—wall or none."

Harry also thought he heard Moody mutter something about, "…Malfoys being caught red-handed...thing to cherish…" But he couldn't be sure.

"Morning, Harry," Dumbledore greeted. "Alastor comes bearing some rather unfortunate news, I'm afraid," Dumbledore then announced as he peered over his glasses at Harry.

Harry felt his stomach knot up at these words. Ominous was an understatement. "Who?" Harry asked in response to his immediate need to know.

Dumbledore, seeing this need, quickly explained, "There were a number of disappearances last night—" he paused here and exchanged a glance with Moody.

"Nine of them were on the watch list because of familial connections to known Death Eaters," Moody supplied.

Dumbledore nodded as he continued on, "Yes, and there are three more missing person reports that have come into the Ministry today. They're still under investigation."

Moody then waved his wand to unfurl a large parchment map upon a side table. "No Dark Marks lingering about and no one's turned up dead—yet. Just a load of missing persons—each disappeared overnight without any explanation. It's been the same for all the others who've gone missing and been somehow related to a Death Eater. Makes a mind of sense though to not advertise these doings—bad publicity for the public to go thinking supporting the Dark side is just as dangerous as opposing them."

"How do you know they've just gone missing now?" Harry asked as he moved closer to look at Moody's map.

Moody's mouth split into a jagged grin and Harry knew he was pleased. "Since we guessed it was the blood relatives of Death Eaters that were disappearing, I decided to try and keep an eye on the rest of 'em. Bought a load of Minder Clocks—you know the sort—the ones like the Weasleys have that can be customized to show where each person is? I bought several of those with the locations already enchanted on—made sure each clock had a setting for 'missing'—and then I sent them off to all the homes of remaining relatives."

Harry's face contorted with confusion. "But—"

"Had Tonks write up a note to go along with each clock that congratulated them on winning a random drawing. Oh, and of course there's the little matter of my having already bewitched each clock to alert me if any hand ever stuck itself on 'missing'." Moody tapped the map in front of him with his wand. "I get a violet dot on this here map to indicate any clock with a hand fixed on 'missing' for more than three hours."

Dumbledore, standing beside Harry as they each looked down at Monody's map at each of the twelve twinkling violet dots, mused, "Well, it certainly is reassuring to see the older minds still coming up with a few new tricks. Quite clever, Alastor, clever indeed."

Moody growled at the compliment however, and scowled at Dumbledore as he asked, "Who you calling _old_, old man?" Dumbledore merely twinkled.

Looking back to the map, Harry asked, "Locator Charm?" as he guessed how it was the clocks had been bewitched.

"Aye, but they only activate when a hand's been stuck—"

"A jinx then?" said Harry. "Basically a Locating Jinx?" Moody nodded. Harry looked more closely at the map and saw the dots also had a name by them; presumably that of the missing person.

A small _pop_ sounded then and a deep voice called out, "Dumbledore?"

Harry and Dumbledore both turned around to see Kingsley Shacklebolt's head floating in the fireplace flames. Dumbledore strode over to the fire at once and asked, "What news, Kingsley?"

Kingsley's eyes flickered over to both Harry and Moody in greeting. "We've connected the Widdershins. Willy's been playing host to two Danish wizards who were listed on a watch list provided by the Danish Ministry."

Dumbledore looked over at Moody who already had bewitched a quill to take notes and nodded. "And the last one?"

Kingsley shook his head in the negative. "No word yet from Tutbury and Brigg." Harry vaguely recognized the name 'Tutbury' as an Auror who'd been recruited to the Order by Tonks. "I'm hoping they've found a lead and that's what's been keeping them from returning. If they have found a lead, the timing could not have been better, what with whatever's bound to go down tonight."

Harry scrunched up his nose as he tried to decipher what Kingsley meant about tonight. _Did they know about something that was planned and not tell him?_ He felt quite suddenly out of the loop and found himself glancing about for a calendar or notes upon Dumbledore's gilded desk for any clues.

Kingsley _popped_ away then and, before Harry could ask, Dumbledore was walking back to his desk and explaining, "This evening begins the Eve of Imbolc—yet another ancient day of feast and ritual. Following Lord Voldemort's pattern for the past three months, he's had gatherings and initiations on each sabbat since Halloween."

"With any luck," Moody chimed in as he rolled up his map, "Tutbury and Brigg might suss out where they're all meeting. With a _load_ of luck, they might get a fair few names of those new initiates."

Moody then threw on his heavy winter cloak and donned his black bowler hat. "I've left you with a replicate of that map, Albus," he said with a nod towards the side table. "And you," Moody said with his one beady eye fixed upon Harry, "you just remember one thing—"

"Constant vigilance," Harry chorused along with Moody.

Moody didn't seem exactly amused but still left with one last stern look at Harry.

Alone then with Dumbledore, Harry turned to see the headmaster clicking open the glass door of a tall dusty cabinet on the wall behind his desk. He turned and looked over his shoulder at Harry, beckoning with a long crooked finger for Harry to approach.

"Do you see this?" he asked as he delicately cradled a large glass sphere that was at least as big as a Quaffle in his hands.

Harry nodded. "It's a perfect moving model of the solar system." He'd seen one just like it (though not nearly as grand) when he'd stayed in Diagon Alley before his third year.

Dumbledore nodded, pleased. "Yes, and do you recall from your Astronomy lessons how one defines both an equinox and a solstice?"

Nodding, Harry began, "An equinox is one of two days where—"

But Dumbledore nodded, not needing a full recitation of the definitions and cut in, "Yes—you see, between these four days, which are perfectly spaced out within the year, are four other days also of ancient traditional holiday. Collectively, they are called sabbats—one might have heard about them if one happened to have paid any attention in History of Magic lessons." Harry fought the flush in his cheeks. "But that's neither here nor there," Dumbledore said with a wink.

"Recall, Harry, how I told you just last week that it was a very ancient custom—even predating the age of Hogwarts' founders—for many wizards and witches to plan their deaths for the sake of dedicating themselves as earthbound entities?"

Harry nodded again, thinking of how Rowena Ravenclaw had supposedly done this to provide some enchantments for Hogwarts.

"Well, the process and act of becoming one of these entities falls most assuredly under Blood Alchemy. The process and act of _invoking_ and calling upon these entities is called Ritualised Magic. Ritual invocations were often designed to require a host of wizards or witches to perform the act and so, it evolved such that those seeking to perform the consecration of their magical selves to earthbound entities would almost always choose dates of established gatherings and celebrations—namely—sabbats. It took only a matter of time to compare those who'd committed their consecrations on these dates of solar alignment and harmony to those who'd chosen dates at random to see that, the dates of solar alignment granted far superior results.

"The precise science of it is not entirely known, however, this discovery was a major advancement in the study of the influences of planetary, solar, celestial bodies upon beings here on earth; most specifically in regards to performing magic."

"Like Divination?" Harry said sceptically.

Dumbledore nodded once. "Yes—and no. Divination, Harry, is but one advanced application of this. More broadly, it's just called Ritualised Magic. You would have learned a bit about this if you'd have studied Ancient Runes or Arithmancy. Each of these courses deal with a specific precision relating to the construct and execution of common Rituals—now, mostly known as mere condensed spellwork. Ah," Dumbledore said, pausing and squinting up at the ceiling; "where was I going with this?

"Ah yes! These days, Harry, to which many magical entities—sometimes called deities—have dedicated themselves, are the days that a wise student of Ritualised Magic will choose to solicit the aid of these magical essences. By doing so, a wizard may channel all the magical power of the deity into their magic—a great increase indeed."

"You think Voldemort is doing this?" Harry asked, alarmed at the idea of Voldemort performing rituals to greatly increase his power.

"I know he's been doing this for some time, Harry. Additionally, there's also another, more general, benefit to performing rituals or particularly important magic on the sabbats; the sheer volume of deities who used these dates as their consecration dates means there is a vast amount of magical essences that, if the proper affinity persists, might bequeath their powers of their own volition. It's simply a very favourable time to perform magic of many sorts."

Dumbledore watched the tiny gold balls within the glass dome spin and float about. "The celestial alignments can be used to calculate which entities are available at certain times. However, I tend not to overly concern myself with believing Voldemort's use of these dates gives him a great advantage for, you see, as many deities might possess an affinity for his magic and his intents, many also exist which possess an equal disdain for the Dark Arts he practices and therefore an affinity for anyone opposing such a wizard."

Through further segues, Harry found himself listening to Dumbledore illuminate the connections between several other known earthbound entities and particular types of magic. This was followed by a lecture on the capricious nature of many of these entities and a warning that many entities were created not truly for altruistic purposes but of self-serving and egotistical desires.

It was an hour and half into this lecture that Harry actually realised that Dumbledore was actually explaining about one subset or offshoot of Blood Alchemy. This seemingly trivial explanation of Voldemort's timing had turned into a full out lecture session. And truthfully, Harry was actually rather pleased to be able to see a greater use for this knowledge and most especially to see some tie-ins to Voldemort and his motives—even if they were merely about timing. Harry also found it somewhat of a relief to hear that largely, the knowledge required to perform these rituals was long lost or misconstrued through the time and language translations.

Near the end of their session together, Kingsley's head _popped_ into the fire once more.

"No word yet on the last lead, Albus," Kingsley said at once. "We're about to change over shifts here and send out the doubled force for ready patrol. Have you any leads yet as to what tonight's plans might be? Have you heard back from—" He paused here with a pleading look. "_Anyone_ at all?"

Harry had a feeling Kingsley meant Snape.

"Alas, none at all," Dumbledore said gravely. "I will send you word at once if I do get any news. You can be sure of it."

With that, Kingsley's head disappeared once again from the fireplace flames and Harry asked, "Do you not expect Snape to return tonight, Professor?"

Harry was of two minds about whether or not he wished Snape to return soon. On one hand, Harry was looking forward to seeing Snape's reaction on Harry witnessing Malfoy's break-in and also, Harry was of course hopeful there might be a tip-off from Snape on whatever it was that Voldemort had planned for this evening. On the other hand, Harry would still be happy for an excuse to not have to serve a detention this evening with the greasy git.

Dumbledore, as he peered at Harry, seemed to know exactly what Harry was thinking. "It's my guess that Professor Snape will not be able to return in time for your detention this evening but I'm positive he'll be willing to reschedule it with you. I'm sure you have more than enough homework to keep you busy tonight. I'd also imagine Professor Snape will be quite grateful for your information about Mister Malfoy and Mister Nott." Harry severely doubted the 'grateful' part.

"Now, as for me," Dumbledore said as he rose from his high-backed chair, "I think I'm in need of a bit of supper. And then, perhaps, I'll take a leisurely stroll about the castle's lowermost floors. Oh, and Harry? I _do_ think you have a very excellent suggestion in your using your detention time to aid in investigating Professor Snape's storeroom. It's always helpful when someone can bring not just a problem to light but a solution as well."

Harry left then with a mixed sense of satisfaction and trepidation. He was pleased that his report from last night and proposal to deal with it had been met with approval (by Dumbledore and Moody, at least). There was enough to be getting on with for everyone and he was relieved that he'd managed not to add to that burden and that, with any luck, his news and plan might lead to more information or even a solution to the problem of his missing locks of hair. On the other hand, Harry was also now dreading what might come to pass this evening.

The past two sabbats had been nights where Voldemort had increased his numbers and also sent out his initiates to prove themselves as Death Eaters. It was surely a night where people would die and Harry was already feeling weighed down by the prospect of it all.

Everything he was doing, his efforts to learn and to become a better wizard, his involvement in the Order, _all_ he did—_none_ of it actually helped or made any difference on a night like tonight. The Death Eaters would swell in number, unsuspecting people would still be murdered, and the news that Voldemort and his followers were only gaining more power would surely spread. With tomorrow's certain headlines, Harry knew he'd feel just a few more eyes upon him; each stare would linger just a little longer and all of them would grow just a little more impatient for him, 'one with the power', to wield his mysterious 'power' and to vanquish the threat to them all.

It was difficult to blame them as Harry felt the same impatience but, as he didn't _know how_ to vanquish Voldemort, there was very little he _could_ do.

It was a very long evening that Harry spent in the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione sat with him and Ron, too for most of the evening. He'd told them both about his meeting with Dumbledore and now all three of them found it difficult to focus on homework and to not look at the clock constantly in wonder of what was going on outside of Hogwarts.

Hermione's way of dealing with the stress seemed to be to make a list of all the homework each of them had assigned and then to inquire about their exact progress made on each of these assignments. It was all Harry could do to keep from sniping at her to ask whether she had 'vanquishing the Dark Lord' on the list. But he knew she was just nervous and so, with a suggestion that she go use her mirror to speak with her parents and ensure they were staying in for the night, Harry retired to his dormitory.

When he first entered the dormitory, he'd thought he was alone. He'd seen Dean and Seamus both downstairs practising their human transfiguration (last he'd seen, Dean's hair was a long, flowing blonde). Ron had been left downstairs as well; only he was doodling nonsensically as he not so slyly kept an eye on Katie Bell. Harry found himself wishing that his greatest worries were over asking out a girl. Had it really not been so long ago when it _had_ been his greatest worry?

A ruffle of parchment drew Harry's thoughts back into the room. The noise had come from Neville's draped-off bed.

"Neville?" Harry inquired. "You in here?"

More rustling and then Harry saw the draperies of the bed part to reveal Neville. "Yeah? Oh, Harry—I didn't hear you come in." He was just stuffing parchment scrolls tied up with a string into a letterbox. "Did—did you need me for something?" he asked warily.

"Oh, er, no," Harry answered lamely.

He hadn't spoken much to Neville since Neville had been mentioned in the Prophet as having been a former prophecy candidate. It wasn't that Harry didn't want to talk to Neville, it just seemed like Neville hadn't been around much and, well, Harry just wasn't talking to much of anyone outside of Hermione, Ron and the Quidditch team.

"I just thought I was alone, that's all," Harry said as he kicked off his shoes and then scooted back onto his bed.

Neville hastily shoved the letterbox into his trunk and then locked it. "Oh, well, I'll leave then."

Harry had the distinct feeling Neville did not want to be alone with him. It was very unsettling. "Do you blame me?" Harry blurted out. It wasn't meant to sound accusatory but Harry was quite remorse to admit it did come out that way. Apparently his brooding over the weight of everyone's expectations had made him a bit tetchy on the topic.

"No!" Neville answered at once, sounding surprised and standing up straight from where he'd been fiddling the lock on this trunk, making sure it was secure. "No—" he laughed uncertainly. "Why, why would I blame you, Harry?"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "It's just—well, everyone seems to kind of blame me in a way for everything going on and I…I just thought, you know, that you'd have more than most to blame me for. If you were going to blame me, that is."

Neville looked even more shocked at this relative outpouring of information from Harry. He shook his head and said, "No, Harry—I don't blame you. I think it's got to be _awful_ to be you. No—no offense or anything," he added quickly.

Harry's mouth twisted grimly. "Yeah, well." Running a hand through his hair, he breathed out and felt a knot of stress loosen from his stomach. "I didn't mean to sound accusing, Neville. I—it's just we got word there's some sort of plans for tonight and I've got no idea what's in store. I just know people will read about whatever happens in the paper and then wonder about why I'm not out there stopping it all from happening when—" Harry snorted. "What am I _supposed_ to do? Do they expect me to go hunt him down _now_? I want him dead more than _anyone_ but—" Harry's fist smacked into his pillow as his frustration went beyond words.

Neville, looking more confident at seeing Harry's loss of composure, walked right up to Harry's bed and said, "You're not the only one who can do anything." He raised a hand to silence Harry's protest. "No—listen—it's not just V-_Voldemort_ that's out there; it's his followers too. And anyone and everyone can and _should_ stand up against his followers. Without his followers, he's _no one_. We can _all_ do something, Harry."

Harry looked up and saw Neville's eyes spark with determination; he felt better than he had all night. "I just wish others would think of that," he said hoarsely as he looked away and rubbed his temple.

"Well, I've got to go to the Owlry," Neville said, stepping back and looking about uncertainly. "I'll, er, see you later?"

Harry nodded as Neville left his alone. He felt stupid now for even bringing up the whole conversation now.

With irritation and contempt for himself, Harry changed into his pyjamas and climbed into bed. Working on a Charms essay, far from the eyes of his classmates, he finally began to relax. He was surprised to note how much time had passed when he finally heard his fellow dorm mates return for bed.

As he heard the others fall quiet and saw the lights of the dormitory dim, Harry closed his books and slid them off the bed. By wandlight, he wrote in his journal a summary of his day and then, after blowing on the ink to dry, he closed that book, replaced the Concealing Charm and tucked it away for the night alongside his glasses and wand. The possibilities of the night still weighed distressingly upon Harry's mind, but then Harry found something else to focus upon; far off from the recesses of his mind came a distant yet increasing chorus of voices.

He was still awake enough to recognise them and to think, _I should listen to them; see if I can finally hear them and figure out who they are_. It was difficult though as just when he felt like he was near enough to them to finally discern their words, he'd feel as if he was leaving his body behind and about to be swept away in sleep. He'd jerked himself awake three times now.

Thus far he'd discerned two sets of voices among the many. They were divided and often seemed to quarrel with one another. Both seemed to beckon to him as soon as they'd sense his presence but, while one set was most decidedly caring and warm, the other seemed cold and menacing as he neared their calls. It was disturbing this realisation that they weren't all as soothing and comforting as he'd once thought them to be. The last thought he remembered before he succumbed to sleep was wondering if he'd just never realised the divided nature of the voices or if it was just a recent development.

"Breakfast?" Hermione asked as she rose at once and fell in step beside Harry as he strode across the Common Room to the portrait hole.

"No," he said with a shake of his head. "I wanted to go to Professor Dumbledore's office—" He paused in speaking when he saw Hermione smile and pull out a stack of napkin wrapped around two pieces of toast and several rashers of bacon.

"I know," she said. "Me, too. I already went down to the kitchens and picked this up for you."

Harry took the food gratefully and noticed Hermione seemed just as anxious to receive news of last night as he. He ate hurriedly as they made their way from the tower to the Headmaster's office. When they arrived, the stone gargoyle leapt out of the way without a password, as if it had been just waiting for them.

When they entered, Dumbledore was alone and seated in a high-backed wing chair beside the fireplace with a large parchment in his lap. He glanced over at both Harry and Hermione and Harry knew at once the headmaster had been awake all night.

"Sir?" Harry inquired as they neared. He now saw the parchment was the replicate of Moody's map.

"Good morning," Dumbledore greeted them even though it looked very much like it was anything but. He reached into his robe then and pulled out a gold pocket watch, clicking it open and smiling ruefully as he noted the time. "I presume the both of you are here hoping for news, hmm?" he wagered looking at Harry and then Hermione who each nodded.

Dumbledore then summoned chairs and conjured a table between them. He unfurled the map upon the table and slid it across the table towards Harry.

Harry, with Hermione kneeling on her chair and looking over his shoulder, saw that there were several more dots upon the map but, while the previous ones had been violet and accompanied by a name, these additional ones were black and often had just a number beside them. He looked up across at Dumbledore and asked, "What are the black dots for?"

Dumbledore reached down and lifted a small black cauldron from the floor. It was the cauldron that was bewitched for the transfer of Order post and, in it was several parchment notes, each already opened and read. "I've been updating the map throughout the night," he explained.

"These are all people who've gone missing?" Harry asked.

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore said. "They're muggles who've been found dead."

Hermione gasped audibly and looked up, wide-eyed, at this, saying, "What? But there're _so many_!"

Indeed there were, Harry saw. Several dozen black dots were scattered across the country and a fair few dotted along the northern and eastern coasts of Ireland. He guessed nearly fifty in all.

Harry looked up and saw Dumbledore nod. "It's kept the Ministry's law enforcement quite busy to have to respond to all these incidents and, well, with the number of muggles dead, there's also the additional burden of our Ministry's Obliviators working double-time to ensure that news is contained and that it does not spread before proper action can be taken."

Harry imagined that was an awful lot of wizards and witches working around the clock then.

"There're special Obliviators," Hermione recited as she returned to looking at the map. "They work undercover as muggle journalists and help stop the spread of news concerning the Wizarding world and they also work with the Ministry's Department of Misinformation. They're mainly just stationed with the larger news outfits." She saw Harry looking at her; marvelling at how she always seemed to know something completely obscure about everything. Sheepishly, she admitted, "I researched it after reading the muggle news reports trying to explain the Dementor attacks."

Harry looked up just as Dumbledore said, "There's been no word of any Dementor attacks and in fact, the last sighting was Friday. There's not a word on where they might be."

That actually made Harry feel a bit better; he was desperate enough to take good news from even a mixed blessing such as this. Looking back down at the map, his eye caught upon a violet dot that appeared to be flickering. The name beside it, _Thalia Wilmurk_, was also flickering and Harry could swear both dot and name were beginning to fade.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said placing a finger to mark the spot of the flickering dot near Bedford, "I think someone might not be missing anymore. Their name and dot it flickering and—" As he spoke, the name and dot vanished from the parchment. He looked up. "It's gone now! Do you think they returned home or, if they were taken, that they escaped or—"

Dumbledore was slowly shaking his head no and rose from his seat. "Alastor said he created the maps to hold the name and location of the clock until he wiped it clear, that is, unless, the person named died. I've seen three others disappear since about midnight," Dumbledore said as he swung an iron crane out from the fire and plucked a whistling teakettle from it with his wand.

Any hope Harry had had at one of the missing people returning to explain what had happened to them died as quickly as it formed.

Levitating the steaming teakettle, Dumbledore summoned a tea tray from a cabinet and sighed saying, "In other news, I found nothing suspicious in my inspection last night of the door or wall outside of Professor Snape's office." Harry looked up with surprise. "Indeed, I shall be quite interested to hear what Professor Snape thinks of it all and what ideas he might have as to how someone might have gained entrance."

"You've not heard from him, then?" Hermione asked as she spooned tea into the teapot and held the lid off as the teakettle tilted and poured boiling water into the pot.

"Nothing," Dumbledore said. He glanced askance at Harry and then said, "I'm even wondering if he'll make it back in time for his classes this morning."

A tapping at the window then announced the arrival of a delivery owl, bearing the morning's Daily Prophet in its beak. Dumbledore rose and opened the window, holding his arm out for the owl to perch upon as he paid it five knuts. A second owl flew in and over to Hermione then with her copy of the paper.

As Dumbledore held out his arm for his owl to fly off, he said, "Well, it's likely true there will be little of note in this morning's paper on any of last night's activities."

Harry heard Hermione sniff disapprovingly at this. "Let's see it," he said as he spread her paper open upon the table.

Sure enough, the front page's top headline was merely, "_Bartleby Nickledirk Sacked as Coach of Wimbourne: Rumours allege he condoned and even supported the use of illegal charms by players despite warnings from league office that charms testing was imminent._"

Harry couldn't help but feel some relief at knowing he might not have to go through the day with more whispers than usual about him and how he ought to be 'doing something to get rid of Voldemort'.

"Are they not even reporting on the missing people?" Hermione asked, turning to the second page. "They're wizards and witches—_that _at least should make it newsworthy," she said scornfully.

"That news wouldn't have been known by the paper to print," Harry reminded her.

"It might not make any difference though," said Dumbledore. "Amelia's been sensing some tension from the Daily Prophet. The Ministry, just last week, had submitted a public service article to explain how wizards and witches can help defend muggle areas from Dementors and aid in attacks upon muggles by Dementors. It included detailed training on the performance of the Patronus Charm," he nodded to Harry, "guidelines for Obliviation and suggestions for aid including the proffering of chocolate and appropriate explanations for the experience."

"I didn't hear anything about that," Hermione said frowning as she turned another page.

"No, well, indeed you would not have, Hermione. It wasn't published. After an staffer inquiry, a Prophet spokeswizard said an article of that nature 'wasn't in the interest of the paper's most cherished readers'."

Hermione's jaw dropped with indignation.

"Purebloods," Harry mumbled, almost to himself but loud enough for Dumbledore to nod once before pouring their tea.

Hermione continued to sputter over this as Harry sat back and blew across his tea and mused over the position the Prophet was in. _Most average wizards were likely afraid of appearing to be concerned with the welfare of any muggles when that would only draw attention from Death Eaters. Maybe the Prophet itself was afraid of seeming to support anything other than scorn and amused disdain for muggles. Or, maybe, the Prophet had a few Death Eaters influencing the editors_. None of these thoughts were appealing to Harry.

In no time, Hermione was breaking into his thoughts, saying, "Harry, we need to be off for Transfiguration."

They made it to class just as the bell rang and had to sprint to their seats in the front of the class. The first place Harry looked as he sat down was back and across towards Draco Malfoy.

Malfoy, sneer firmly in place, was looking back and, upon seeing Harry, flashed a supercilious smile followed by a challenging glare. Harry would have given anything to have just a minute to peer into Malfoy's mind.

"Mister Malfoy," Professor McGonagall called out as she tapped the front of her lectern, "if I might tear your attention away from Mister Potter? I'd like to begin my lecture." Several titters followed this comment and Harry sunk low into his seat. McGonagall was looking at him now and he quickly picked up his quill in an effort to appear poised to take notes. Thankfully, she chose to begin class but, throughout her lecture, Harry could still feel Malfoy's glare.

At the end of class, Harry hung back and had Hermione do the same. He wanted to make sure they were the ones trailing Malfoy and not the other way around as they all trekked from Transfiguration to Potions.

"So?" Ron said as he came up to them. "Where were you guys this morning? Did you hear anything on last—"

"Shh!" Hermione said as Ernie and Hannah both looked over with curiosity on their way out. Waiting until they were gone, Hermione furiously whispered, "Nothing much happened—unless you count a few score of muggles getting slaughtered!"

Ron gaped at her outburst and Harry further explained, "It's not in the Prophet. There's nothing there. But Dumbledore was getting reports from the Ministry so we found out."

"What about Snape?" Ron asked. "Did you tell him yet how Malfoy broke in to his office?" Ron had already expressed his great desire to see Snape throw a wobbly in Malfoy's direction.

Harry just shook his head. "He's not been back."

"_Yet_," Hermione said. "We've got Potions next and if he _is_ back, he'll likely be in a towering temper. We should go, Harry."

Ron looked as if he almost wished he were still in Potions, just so he might witness Snape in a rage at someone other than Harry. (Well, Ron _had_ already seen that; however, the fact that it'd been he who'd been the target of the rage had made the experience not at all enjoyable.) "See you guys at lunch," Ron said as they parted ways.

"Do you think he's back?" Hermione asked as they descended the steps into the dungeons.

"No idea."

They entered the potions lab and broke off to go to their separate worktables. They had just started the previous week with working their way through a list of potions they'd need to master and so, it was without delay that most students were already at work, not bothering to wait around for Snape to arrive.

"Hey," Harry greeted Padma as he slung his bag down. "Seen Snape yet?"

She shook her head and immediately shoved over a mortar filled with mermaid scales. "Grind those, please, Harry, would you?"

Harry set to work but kept looking up, waiting for Snape to appear amongst them, lurking and looming like he always did. He caught Hermione's eye more than once as she obviously did the same. As he began to accept that Snape was just not likely to be in today's class, he realised it was almost pleasant being in the lab without having to worry about Snape prowling about and looking to dock points. Malfoy, too, seemed especially pleased with a Snape-free class as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet upon an unused work bench while Ernie and Neville worked together, happy to be rid of both Snape and Malfoy for the most part.

Harry wasn't even thinking of Snape anymore when he suddenly felt a very peculiar shudder wash over him that, for some odd reason, distinctly reminded him of Snape. (It was almost as if the shudder had sneered at him, that is, if shudders could sneer.)

A moment later, Harry recognised it as his Perimeter Charm being breached and he looked up at once. Padma was working across the table, decanting some foul-smelling liquid. Harry turned right then left and, upon not seeing anyone, he began to feel uneasy as he mentally calculated how close someone had to be to set off the charm. And then he felt a very real poke in the middle of his back.

An invisible Snape had to be right beside Harry. He _knew_ it and this was extremely unsettling. What did Snape want Harry to do? Better yet, _why_ was Snape lurking about his own classroom invisible? He must have wanted something from Harry but not want to be seen. Or, _something_, Harry knew Snape was indeed prone to fits of nonsensical behaviour.

Harry looked about the room. No one was paying him any attention; Hermione was hard at work on something and Malfoy appeared to be carving something into a desktop with his wand.

"Er, I think I need to get some new phials, Padma," he said while scratching behind his ear. "I think I might have contaminated these," he said while waving towards the dozen or so perfectly sterile phials. Padma looked like she thought Harry might be crazy but, as Harry was used to this, he didn't even bother to further explain before he turned slowly (he'd hate to run into an invisible Snape) and then walked deliberately to the student storeroom.

The student storeroom had two doors to it; one to the NEWT Potions laboratory and one which Harry now saw ajar and that appeared to lead into Snape's office. He slipped in through the door, which then closed behind him at once.

"Very good, Potter," said Snape's disembodied voice.

"Er…" _This is so creepy_, Harry thought as he stood stiffly just inside the room. He felt wary about moving lest he run smack into Snape.

Much to Harry's relief, the air in front of him then shimmered as Snape pulled off an Invisibility Cloak from his head and looked piercingly at Harry. "Have you seen anything else since you sent the cauldron post?" he demanded.

Harry shook his head. "Dumbledore said he'd poked around by the wall last night and saw nothing out of the ordinary."

Snape's look was unfathomable. "I need you to let me into your mind."

Harry blinked.

"_Now_," Snape added impatiently as he lifted his wand.

"Wait—wait a minute! _Why_?" Harry protested.

"Because I don't have time for more chitchat, Potter! Your class is nearly up, I need to know _exactly_ what you saw and I need to pull Mister Malfoy in here then and impress upon him that he _did not_ get away with _anything_." Snape looked frighteningly serious about all this. "According to the headmaster, you are an adequate Occlumens," he said with much disdain. "Therefore I shall need your acquiescence. Unless of course, you wish me to _test_ that claim—it might take a bit longer but I'm sure I could indeed break you down and penetrate your mind with time and—"

"Yes, yes, fine," Harry relented. Fine, Snape just wanted to see for himself what it had been that Harry had witnessed. Harry could see the value in this too. Nevertheless, he still wasn't happy about it.

He took a deep breath and braced himself against the wall. He hadn't done controlled projection like this for a few months and even then, that had been with Dumbledore. Now, being here with Snape in his office, reminded Harry far too much of the awful Occlumency lessons he'd endured the previous year.

"Excellent," Snape whispered as his eyes darkened to an inky black. He then reached out his wand towards Harry's head and incanted, "_Legilimens_."

Harry felt a sudden jab into his mind that, upon instinct, he initially repelled. The jabbing presence persisted though and he reminded himself that it was Snape and that he wanted to allow Snape to see what had happened that evening after he'd left detention. With focus, Harry allowed the memory of that night to project forth and, when he was finished, he sealed off his mind and blinked rapidly to break the connection.

Snape looked contemplatively at Harry. Harry wasn't sure Snape was contemplating him or Malfoy. Seeing an obscenely sinister smile play upon Snape's mouth, Harry dearly hoped Snape was thinking of Malfoy.

"Are you going to confront him?" Harry asked.

Snape merely narrowed his eyes.

"I'd like to be there if you do," Harry said. _Where was this coming from?_ He panicked as soon as the words had left his mouth.

"Excuse me?" Snape said as if he didn't quite believe what Harry had just asked.

"Er, well, _I'm_ the one who saw him, after all…"

With a snort, Snape narrowed his eyes into slits and hissed, "You're really something, Potter, aren't you? You've got no _right_ to stick your nose--"

"Do too!" Harry protested. "I _do_ have a right--you heard what he said--their planning something to do with _me_ and--"

"And that's news?"

"It's confirmation of what we suspected!"

"_Hush!"_ Snape shushed as Harry's voice had risen. "_No_."

"But--"

"No!" Snape gave Harry a deathly glare and, through clenched teeth, said, "You'll get a damn report from me when I've finished."

"Bu--"

"_And_ you're having witnessed this even will remain a secret unless I tell you otherwise--whom have you already told?"

Harry glared back defiantly at Snape.

"Granger," he said, assuming and not even asking. "You copied McGonagall and Moody, the headmaster and the _werewolf_, too…"

"Don't you call him--"

"Weasely, too? Hmm?"

"So what if I have?" Harry ground out.

Snape straightened himself importantly and then sniffed, saying, "Well, that significantly limits my options. I'll just have to make do and hope for the best."

"Wh--_why_--what--" Harry sputtered, unable to even phrase the question to understand what the hell Snape was talking about.

"Stop blathering, Potter," Snape spat. "Get out now and attempt to stay out of trouble for the last remaining minutes of class. I need to detain Mister Malfoy before the period ends if you want me to attempt to get to the bottom of this. Out!"

"Bu--"

"_Now_," Snape growled as he flung open the door and prodded Harry in the shoulder with his wand tip.

Harry sullenly marched back into the classroom, drawing a curious look from Padma. "Er, weren't there any more phials? Are you sure you contaminated these? I didn't see you do anything--"

"Yeah, yeah, they're fine. My mistake," Harry said dourly. Harry was sure Padma rolled her eyes at this as she'd known this all along but he couldn't bother to care. Instead, he looked over to see Malfoy bent over the workbench where he appeared diligently focused upon whatever it was he was carving.

The rest of the class was working rapidly to finish up their project for the day and Harry seemed to be the only one who saw a swish of black pass through the storeroom and enter the classroom. Snape moved soundlessly around the outside of the room and Harry only took his eyes off the stalking Snape to see Malfoy, still oblivious just now reaching over to pack away his things before the bell rang.

Harry felt like he was watching some animal of prey stalk an unwitting and doomed victim (at least he hoped Malfoy was doomed) and it was with much anticipation that he watched Snape close in behind the unsuspecting Malfoy. It was only because the class was so silent by habit that Snape's voice was audible across the classroom as he leaned in behind Malfoy and intoned, "Find what you're looking for, Mister Malfoy?"

Malfoy, along with more than half the class who'd also been oblivious to Snape's presence jumped in surprise. Harry was then quite pleased to see Malfoy had been so surprised he'd actually dropped his book bag with a _thunk_. That, and what with the way Malfoy was stammering, looking up at Snape, made it appear that Malfoy was doing a most excellent imitation of Neville on one of his worst days.

"I believe, Mister Malfoy, that you may remain here--" the bell rang just then, "--_after class_."

As was usual for any class of Snape's, most students made for the door as quickly as possible but Harry, having other plans brewing in his mind, lingered as he watched Snape jerk his head at Malfoy and then towards the pass-through into his office before striding off to said office. As Snape neared, Harry quickly busied himself with wiping down the workbench, hoping to not draw any attention from Snape.

It didn't work.

"And, you, Potter," Snape hissed as he stopped and leaned in menacingly towards Harry. "I don't want to _see_ you anywhere near here until your detention--are we clear?"

There was an imperious tone to Snape's words that Harry found a bit more than the usual cruelly demanding tone Snape often used. Lying through his teeth, Harry said, "_Crystal_, Professor."

Snape, seeming satisfied, then swept out of the classroom, barking, "Malfoy! _Now!"_

Harry watched a red faced Malfoy make his way across the classroom and then heard Hermione nudge him, asking, "What's going on, Harry? When did Snape get back? I didn't even _see_ him come in--is he confronting Malfoy now?"

Harry just shook his head, not wanting to explain just yet…not when there was still a chance--oh, if only he could just hear-- "That's it."

"What's it?"

"That's it," Harry said again, looking at Hermione and grinning broadly.

"Harry?" Hermione said, clearly wondering if Harry had gone around the bend.

Quickly, Harry dug into his book bag and found his Invisibility Cloak, which he'd got back from Ron the day before. He quickly moved to hide the cloak from the few lingering students as he tugged it out.

"Harry," Hermione said with a note of warning in her voice.

"No--he said I couldn't be _seen_. But I only need to _hear_." Harry then dug into his trouser pocket and pulled out a grey and slimy Extendable Ear. "Perfect!" he muttered to himself.

"Harry what in the world--" Hermione began but then Harry cut her off, telling her, "Make sure no one's looking, stand right here and block the view."

He then quickly crouched down, swirled the cloak over his head and whispered to a furious looking Hermione, "M'kay, wish me luck," before heading for the storeroom.

* * *


End file.
